#which is nice of him to say/do but it was truly very chaotically accomplished

[tea-tuesday]

09/12/2023

sad that the day is getting shorter but the city is so pretty as it gets dark 🌙 journaled and reviewed my class notes at a café for a bit before heading home..

#my professor said the assignment that i submitted last night at 4 a.m. was interesting and made me present it to the class😭 #which is nice of him to say/do but it was truly very chaotically accomplished #mine #studyblr #tea-tuesday #study inspiration #studyspo #lawblr #studying #study #law school #study motivation #chaotic academia #city academia #city #washington dc

[ichika27]

Mairimashita! Iruma-kun s2 ep12

We’re halfway through the second season, I suppose?

This episode gives us a little glimpse of the home life of the Abnormal Class students and also a bit of insight about Kalego-sensei himself.

Grandpa Sullivan is excited for the coming vacation as it means he could spend time with his grandson. Opera then tells him he still has some work to do before then including a request from Opera themselves. As repayment for helping him look cool in front of Iruma and friends in the party episode, Grandpa Sullivan agrees to Opera's request and says he, too finds it interesting.

Okay, just a thought but I heard the episode with the party was a filler? Like, it wasn’t in the manga or something or did I get that wrong? Or did they decide to connect it to the story?

At school, Kalego-sensei gets a special task from the school principal: to visit the homes of the Abnormal Class students before the vacation starts. He hates it but he has no choice. He decides to just go in, talk to the parents, go out and to end this as quickly as possible.

First up is Asmodeus! Azz mother unfortunately isn't home though (Azz purposely not let his mom know about the meeting) so his butler is the adult there with him. Kalego-sensei then asks him if he's told his parents about school matters and Azz replies that he does... talk about Iruma and his achievements. Sensei gets annoyed as he was supposed to talk about himself but Azz said he excels at school all the time so there's no need to say anything about it.

Two cute girls (who are relatives, calling Azz "brother") comes out and agrees that Azz is amazing although they hate it that he had been too preoccupied with Iruma recently that they don't hang out as much anymore. Azz apologizes to them... and says Iruma comes first. This led the two kids to get mad at Iruma and insult him. Azz runs after them trying to change their minds.

The butler then talks to Sensei a bit about Azz's past and says the boy has changed and had become happier after enrolling at Babyls and meeting Iruma. Kalego-sensei says he understands cause as demons, becoming the subordinate of someone who beat you is a normal thing. He does note though that if Asmodeus stops being too narrow-minded and only thinking about Iruma, he’d grow and become better and if that happens, he’d become a better subordinate to Iruma. He does tell the butler that he won’t be telling Azz this as the guy has to figure it out by himself.

Next is Clara's family who even gives him a warm welcome. There's also a musical number much to his annoyance. He absolutely doesn't like it in there and wanted to leave lol. The anime really made musical numbers the Valac Family thing, huh?

Poor Sensei is at their mercy haha.

Just when he couldn't take it anymore, Clara's older brother finally makes his appearance and apologizes to Sensei for the trouble. Urara, unlike everyone else in the family is polite and mature making Kalego-sensei question if the boy really is a part of the family or if he was kidnapped from somewhere else lol. Sensei was able to talk to them normally for a while before they start their antics again. Sensei was able to give advice about Clara though. He mentions how Clara is a bit insensitive (as she doesn’t consider how her actions affect others) and causes trouble but is good in a sense that she could make people follow her own pace.

Oh and Clara’s mom mentioned that someone like Urara does come into their family from time to time. Like, most of them will act like the typical Valac family member but once in a while, they’d produce someone like Urara whose different. I think this is interesting since they have been hinting about him from season 1 and now he’s here and there’s something about him that’s different.

The other students homes aren't any better and Sensei had to deal with whatever trouble or craziness that'd be there waiting for him. By the end of it all, he was tired.

In a way, he should’ve expected this. I mean, this is the Abnormal Class we;re talking about. He got a lot of souvenirs from them all though and has a bad full of random stuff by the end (most came from Clara’s family).

The final visit was to Iruma's house. Kalego-sensei just wanted things to be over with but his fears came go be realized when he meets the one person he didn't want to see: Opera who used to be his senpai.

Sensei seem to be scared or at least very wary of Opera that he uses Iruma as a shield lol.

Grandpa shows up and shows what Kalego-sensei looked like when he was young. He then proceeds to drop some details about Kalego-sensei as a student (as Sensei complains about it).

It seems that back in his school days, Kalego-sensei gets challenged to fights often and rumors about him pop up as well which he finds to be a pain. The only person he could talk to was Baram-sensei who was also a student back then. The two talked about what's going on and realized Kalego-sensei must've been mistaken by others as someone else. There was no student council back then so things were also more chaotic (It seems Ameri’s influence made a big difference to how school operates now).

He then later learns who everyone mistook him for. The person who the rumors talk about that could defeat many demons: Opera. Since then, Opera had been sort of bossing Kalego-sensei around and it seems sensei might be a bit traumatized as he uses Iruma as shield once again.

Nice. We get a little backstory not just about Kalego-sensei but also about Opera who was a delinquent. Opera seem to still enjoy making Kalego feel bad.

They eventually proceed with the parent-teacher meeting although not without pestering Kalego-sensei for a moment. Sensei talked about the troubles Iruma got into but he also mentioned his accomplishments. Grandpa then takes the record book sensei is holding and reveals it's entirely about Iruma.

Iruma then realizes the hard work Kalego-sensei does as he probably wasn't the only one who sensei had looked into. Sensei takes his book back and gives Iruma proper advice. He says Iruma shouldn’t mix up responsibility with self-sacrifice and should be careful with the actions he takes.

When it was finally over and he could finally leave, Opera forces Kalego-sensei to stay and even had him turned into his familiar form.

The next day, Sensei thanks everyone for letting him into their homes but informs them that he'd be increasing the number of their homework and everyone complains while Sensei is happy to see them struggling.

Later, as vacation finally comes close, the class goes to Iruma’s house to invite him to Walter Park. Iruma agrees of course and the group excitedly talked about what they'd do next.

--

I really liked this episode. It’s nice to see more of Iruma’s classmates even if it’s just for a few seconds each. We also get more info on Clara and Asmodeus and about their family members who hadn’t appeared til now. Also backstory about Opera!

The thing I liked the most about this however, is seeing what kind of person Kalego-sensei is. He’s strict and gets easily angry and seems to not like his students. He would be what we’d describe as a “terror teacher” but surprisingly, he isn’t unfair. He wouldn’t randomly flunk a student because he doesn’t like them and does take his job seriously. He doesn’t disregard the good points of a troublesome student and also looks into how a student could better themselves. He likes seeing them struggle but would acknowledge their accomplishments (we also see this back at the end of the exams where he disappointingly announced that everyone passed). Grandpa Sullivan even mentioned how he’s glad Kalego-sensei is the teacher in-charge. No wonder everyone at school respects Kalego-sensei - it’s not just about his strength or how scary he is but it’s cause he truly is a responsible, reliable, and competent teacher.

I like how we’re learning a lot about other characters this season. It makes them more likable and makes it more fun to watch their interactions with one another.

I guess the Walter Park arc would be next? I hear it’s action-packed so I look forward to it.

Thank you for reading this far!

#Mairimashita! Iruma-kun #welcome to demon school iruma-kun #anime #sana_post

[miyomiikonran]

OC-tober Day 2: Glass

Hello there, we're only on day 2 and I already messed up a bit because I had unplanned nap after work that messed up my whole schedule. At least I'm willing to write even if it's a bit late.

___________________________________________

So today's theme is glass which at first caused me some problem cus I was thinking about big glass like surfaces, ice and windows which couldn't give me any clue about who I should choose for today. Thankfully my stupid brain at some point realized there's also another meaning to this word, not just material, but glass as object, which made it clear who should be today's victim willing participant. It's once more someone who I'm only recently developing, even if idea for this character is already a bit old, I would say like 2-3 years old.

My sweet beloved @ironic-artist once created character of Akira, clever but mischievous and confident lil gal for our Wakfu based universe (at first, cus now she has all sorts of versions including modern universe as well, about which this particular post is about). Great part of her story and background circles around the fact she was adopted by already pretty big family managed by recently widowed single father- Luca. However, he wasn't left alone in this great responsibility, since his younger brother Loki was more than willing to help and serve as eccentric but loving uncle to all six (including Akira) children under Luca's care. Whole ordeal with them is always pretty chaotic and funny, since each of the kids is very different from one other when it comes to personality, but how's it anyhow related to the theme?

Well, you see, Loki before he settled with his brother's family and took over that challenging responsibility to support Luca after he lost his wife, had pretty messed past. Brothers themselves were raised solely by their grandparents as kids, which inself wasn't that bad, before their caretakers didn't find out about Loki's bisexuality, which caused them to have a big fight, which resulted in Loki moving out right after finishing highschool. He felt deeply hurt about their grandparents disapproval, tried to silence his grief and fill the hole it created by living rather freely, from party to party, from one friend's house to another, travelling through Europe on foot or hitchhiking. Frequent drinking wasn't anything new or surprising to him, till he didn't find himself addicted and unable to stop even though he wanted to, which started to mess up his private life as well, making him unable to hold any long-term relationship he had.

However bittersweet it wouldn't sound, the only thing that could keep him sober for more than few days were visits he paid to his brother, especially after their grandparents eventually passed away and Luca started his own family in house he inherited from them. He loved all his nieces and nephews greatly and always made sure to bring them some little gifts, so once he heard about tragedy that fell over the family, he didn't think twice before deciding to move to them. However, it meant that he had to address and fight addiction, which he kept secret even from his brother through all these years. It wasn't all that pretty, but it was the first time he felt truly determined to accomplish something, which helped him succeed. He kept abstinence ever since then and since Luca was aware that house he inherited was supposed to be equally split between them, if not for conflict between Loki and their grandparents, the least he could do was invite his brother to move in with them for good.

Thanks to @ironic-artist, Loki has the honour to be one of the few of my OCs that has his own "theme song", that nicely portrays how I see his younger years. You can find it here! It even has English subtitles -u-

#oc-tober #OCtober #oc #original character #alcohol #alcohol addiction #alcoholism #Loki #Luca #Akira

[tartagilicious]

our future > gavin, mlqc

ok… here comes the actual birthday fic — happy birthday, one of my biggest comfort characters ever <3 I’ve grown to be so attached to him over the time I’ve been playing mlqc, and though I really can’t even put into words how much I love him, he just makes me feel so happy. I truly hope all of us can find someone that makes us feel the way, fictional or real. //w.c 2330 // not a request.

[toothbrush by dnce]

I’ve only ever met one person I would call truly noble. In the glint of his amber eyes, I've seen more kindness and effort for reform than I have in anyone else -- slowly chipping away at the person everyone had expected him to become to reveal the man he had always wanted himself to be.

My sentiment means very little compared to all that Gavin deserves, but, I’m proud of him. I know very little people that could make it out of such a deep hole, littered with familial and personal issues that even I don’t quite understand. And I thank the deities of fate every day for giving him the chances he needed to get through everything unscathed.

I watch my apartment door open to show his face, suddenly contorting in what I’d call a lost kind of surprise at the small group cheering for him -- as if something about a surprise birthday party doesn’t make sense. But it quickly fades to be replaced with a more familiar happiness, soft like in days of the past.

Yet, his smile is the only thing that remains unchanged in my memory. His spirit has since grown stronger, his body firmer, his sense of justice tighter -- but all of it still belongs to the same man that I have always known.

“Boss!”

Kiki had hissed my name thrice before I realised anyone was calling me that day, and as she smiled mischievously, I knew exactly what she was up to. She must have peered over my shoulder and--

“So, about Gavin.” She had pulled over a seat to sit next to me, in which I quickly clicked off the tab I was on and found something more work-appropriate. Party planning could wait until I was off of work, anyway.

Kiki startled me by asking, “It’s his birthday soon, isn’t it?”

Flashes of the tab I had closed out of flooded my memory, and stammering, I nodded.

“Y-yeah, it is. Why?”

“I think we should throw a party for him! Just as thanks for being so helpful with Miracle Finder, y’know?”

I thought for a moment, painfully aware of Kiki’s eager expression in the corner of my eye even as my mind screamed obscenities. The aforementioned plans held a certain weight in my heart, dragging my mind down with everything I'd be unable to do in the scenario of a party. But, in an effort to keep from having to expose those plans, I swallowed my complaints and agreed.

It’s better this way.

I dropped down onto my bed later that same day and groaned into the pillow, my brows furrowing as I cursed my inability to say no. This wasn’t the end of the world, surely it’d still spin regardless of how the day is spent -- granted that the things I planned to say to him that day aren’t pushed back too far.

That form of reassurance immediately failed to wipe the frown off my face.

Rolling over in a huff, I caught a near perfect glimpse of his gift sitting wrapped on my vanity, its bright and slightly messy packaging mocking me almost more than I could take. Oh, what a day to be reminded that what goes around, comes around.

Truthfully, the idea didn’t taste as bitter in my mouth the next morning. That didn’t excuse the nauseating feeling of anxiety it left behind, but it was progress nonetheless. I opted to keep my breakfast down and stow his gift away from my prying eyes.

It was the beginnings of a busy day, starting with countless bullets in my planner being scribbled out to make room for the new circumstances. The only thing that had remained unchanged was the guestlist, comprised of the close staff he was aware of on Miracle Finder and Eli. A part of my eagerness faltered looking at the rest of the blacked out page, but all I could do was hope that during our meeting, Eli, the first invitee, had what it would take to bring my spirits back up.

The bus was mostly empty on such an afternoon -- kids in school and adults at work. Yet, of course, a certain someone still somehow managed to show up.

I was broken out of my thoughts by a tap on my shoulder, the smooth yet irritating voice of its owner letting my heart sink a bit further into my stomach. Begrudgingly, I looked up at Shaw’s expecting eyes and sigh.

“The seat’s open, you don’t have to ask me.”

His similarly amber eyes peered down at me through lilac bangs, but his short observation session ended with a simple shrug. Shaw had very little problem plopping right down next to me as if we’d known each other forever, even adding the polite touch of music blaring from his headphones.

I stared for a moment, but shook off whatever thoughts had begun to creep into my mind and turned my attention back over to the open planner in my lap, the page depressingly blank. I couldn’t focus for what seemed like eons, but I looked up to realise that it may have something to do with the unwavering gaze trained on my face.

“Shaw?” I questioned, unable to keep a small smile from my face as his eyebrows suddenly flicked up. “Is something wrong?”

“Working on the bus? I didn’t take you for such an overachiever.”

I snorted, twirling the pen between my fingers absentmindedly as he took out a single earbud. “I guess a busybody like you wouldn’t know.”

“Care to tell this busybody what you’re up to, then?” He hummed and pointed curiously to the scribbled out block of text with his finger. I could feel the temperature in my face rising with each passing second, yet I tried my best to answer him regardless.

“I-I’m trying to plan for someone’s birthday…” I started, laughing awkwardly as Shaw retracted his hand with a teasing smile. “I just had to scrap some things, that’s the mess.”

“Nice, who’s the lucky guy?”

I’m instantly taken aback. “How would you know if it’s a guy?”

I could tell that my reaction had pleased him, and internally kicked myself when he chuckled.

“Is it going well?”

“...I think so.” I said, unaware that I had said this more to myself than him. “I couldn’t let him down for something so simple, anyway.”

Shaw’s teasing words didn’t come as I expected them, and when I looked up to see his smile, my actions staggered. He seemed suspiciously happy to hear about my lacklustre plans, but I didn’t let that get to me. I had an entire afternoon to worry about before diving into whatever was going on in that man’s head.

Though, at the moment, Shaw isn’t the one that should be capturing my attention.

Gavin stands in the entryway now with Eli and Minor on either side of him, actively being showered with wishes of a good birthday and positive comments alike. The man in the centre of it has a wistful smile curling his lips, growing almost imperceptibly wider as the seconds pass.

Though betraying him are his eyes, openly showing the contentedness that I had been hoping to see. A similar small smile appears on my own lips, yet I fail to recognise that my body’s mechanics are no different from Gavin’s.

At least he’s enjoying this.

I feel guilty and self entitled for even thinking in such a way, especially being the only one that the turn of events has inconvenienced. Everything has a right time, it just seems that tonight just wasn’t mine.

My chest grows hotter instinctively when I notice Gavin break away from the excited pair, as if my irrationality is trying to tell me he knows what I’m thinking. But, through everything, his calm and familiar smile comes to wash over me like a bucket of cold water.

“___~” Gavin drags out my name knowingly, the tips of his ears a buzzing red from all of the interaction. The nature of his smile is similar as he takes me into his arms, only enveloping me fully when I begin to laugh.

And, It may be my delusion, but his grip around me somehow seems a bit tighter than usual.

I settle gratefully into his shoulder as he begins to speak, though truthfully, I can’t bring myself to focus on more than a few words:

“Thank you.”

I feel accomplished to still recognise a similar glow in his eyes around an hour later, curiously following the homemade cake that Minor places down in front of him. The icing looping daintily overtop of it reads as a messy “Happy Birthday!”, and my heart swells when he smiles upon reading it.

Surrounded by the people I care about, my circumstances are momentarily forgotten. It really is the little things that count.

The night from then on goes up in a semi-chaotic flame orchestrated by Minor, who seems very determined to make this a night no one will forget. At one point, he even thrusts a noisemaker into my hands, to which I can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of.

People begin to trickle out some time after the clock chimes midnight, passing me their thanks and Gavin a last wish before leaving. The quietness slowly returns to my apartment, but throughout all of this, I can’t help but notice that Gavin makes no attempt to leave with everyone else. It’s subtle, but the way he lingers around everyone tells me enough.

The only thing I don’t quite understand is why.

Then, I remember the gift in my nightstand. It’s been sitting there, alone but not necessarily forgotten, for a few days, abandoned with my original plans. But, if Gavin really does intend to stick around, then maybe I can still make good use of it.

True to expectations, Gavin says goodbye to the last guest while standing by my side. In the next moment, it’s only us left in the silent apartment, held together by nothing but the sounds of our breathing.

“Thank you, ___.” I turn to him when he suddenly speaks, and find myself startled by the gentleness his eyes possess. “Thank you so much for such an amazing day today. I might have said it last year, but I still want to be honest: so many things have happened since then, and it wasn’t until today that I realised that all of the good things that have happened to me, they’re because of you.”

An embarrassed tint bites at my cheeks. It’s not often that Gavin shares his feelings so openly, and I certainly hadn’t expected such an average experience to draw them out.

I smile. “My life changed for the better when you came back into it, this was the least I could do.”

It’s now his turn to grow shy at my words, and I can’t help but giggle.

“Here,” My laughter fades through my words as I wave for him to sit down on the couch. “I have one last thing for you, so just wait there.”

Gavin doesn’t refute like I expect him to, and instead, he does what I say. But, I don’t miss the tenderness in his gaze even as I turn away.

My heart beats in anticipation as I walk down the hall, almost out of my chest by the time I stop in front of the correct drawer. I’ve backed myself so far into a corner that even if I did want to chicken out, there would be no excuse -- so, I take a deep breath and wrap my hand around the small package, letting the scent of paper cajole me.

He’ll like it.

I repeat that sentence like a mantra as I hand it to him, settling beside him as he opens the box. A huge weight in my heart lifts to see the surprise and excitement in his eyes, and I internally sigh with relief.

“Though it doesn’t have a tracker in it or anything...” I trail off with a small laugh, paying homage to Gavin’s small but running white lie. “I still want you to look down at it and know that wherever you are, I’ll always be there for you.”

Gavin holds up the homemade ginkgo bracelet so it catches the light, its appearance reminiscent to the one he had given me when we first met again. Its charm is slightly bigger than mine, and the chain still faintly smells of the store it was bought from, but that doesn’t even seem to phase him.

“Thank you, ___.” His expression is so unguarded that I almost hesitate. “This is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.”

My face flushes under his compliment, but I quickly pick myself up again and offer to help him put it on. He smiles appreciatively before dropping the small chain bracelet into my palm, holding out his hand.

My embarrassment turns into slight satisfaction when I clasp it around his wrist, my estimation in sizing turning out to be correct. Though, the glint in my eye is long forgotten when Gavin’s hand comes up to rest on the back of my head in a tender gesture.

Heat emanates from where he touches me, so, similarly, I let my fingers over his wrist linger for just a second longer. Painstaking moments pass where neither of us speak, until finally, his hand leads my gaze upwards.

His lips that land on mine remind me of a thousand memories at once.

Gavin tastes of brisk mornings spent in the music room, warm only due to the hot chocolate a curious senior had left for the girl who practiced there every day. He tastes of every compassionate word shared to me, between nights spent dancing in the sky and afternoons around Loveland investigating the truth -- of a unique comfort and familiarity.

It’s in these moments that I realise how much we’ve gone through together, and how much our future truly holds.

#mlqc #mr love queen’s choice #mlqc imagine #mr love queen’s choice imagine #mlqc x reader #mr love queen’s choice x reader #mlqc gavin #mr love queen’s choice gavin #mlqc gavin x reader #mlqc gavin imagine #mr love queen’s choice gavin x reader #mr love queen’s choice gavin imagine #…I forget what I have to tag #otome #恋与制作人 #恋与制作人 白起

[solitvdcs]

* lana condor, cis female + she/her | you know parker hassan, right? they’re twenty-one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, their whole life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to work bitch by britney spears like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole grass-stained jeans, overfilled ice cream cones, off-key karaoke thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 28, so they’re an aries, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

basic info

full name: parker theresa hassan

birth date: march 28, 1999

pronouns: she/her

hometown: irving, north carolina

sexuality: pansexual (very very VERY heavily female leaning, with an unfortunate mild attraction to men)

height: 5′1″ on a good day

eye color: dark brown

hair color: black

build: athletic

tattoos: the ny yankees emblem on the back of her neck

piercings: earlobes, won’t go any further because she would have to plug them during baseball season and it’s a pain in the ass

style: comfort over style, function over fashion. unless she’s going out then as few clothes as possible while still being considered “decent”

favorite color: orange

favorite food: cupcakes

zodiac: aries sun, leo moon, sagittarius rising

mbti: estp

hogwarts house: gryffindor

enneagram: type 7 wing 8

temperament: sanguine-melancholic

alignment: chaotic neutral

growing up, parker was always really close to her dad. tom hassan was a minor league baseball player that had almost made it to the pros before he suffered a career ending injury, and parker had inherited his athletic ability. she was able to throw a baseball at the ripe young age of three, and by the time all of her friends were starting tee-ball, she had already joined little league. practicing brought parker and her dad closer together, and she knew if she looked out from the pitcher's mound, her dad would be in the stands watching.

and then one day, he wasn't.

when parker was a sophomore in high school, and the only girl on the boy's baseball team, she was a pitch away from throwing the first no-hitter in her school's history. she was on fire, and nothing could break her focus. she looked up to meet her dad's eyes — like she always did before she was about to throw the last pitch - and tom hassan wasn't there. parker lost her focus and the batter hit a home run; her team still won the game ultimately, but parker still felt like she lost.

DEATH/DRUGS/ALCOHOL TW. after that day, parker gave up on everything. she wasn't ready to take on so much responsibility; she was fifteen, for crying out loud! she did everything she could to stray away from responsibility: she quit the baseball team, her grades slipped, she started hanging out with an undesirable crowd, and she discovered the wonders of alcohol. it was nice to forget her problems for a night, even if they came to confront her in the sober light of day. but one night, she got in the car with a guy she'd been seeing - she knew he'd been drinking, but he swore he was good to drive. parker was too far gone to argue, so she climbed in the back while he and his friend claimed the front two seats. what happened next was a blur, but the next thing she knew, the car was wrapped around a tree. the two guys were unconscious or dead — she couldn't be sure which — but she luckily had come out relatively unharmed. she climbed out and ran, the adrenaline sobering her up enough to get her to a safe place. the two were pronounced dead on arrival, and nobody ever found out she was in the car with them, and she swore nobody ever would.

parker realized her coping mechanisms weren’t working, and she tried to slip back into her old life as smoothly as possible. she trained for hours every day over the summer to get herself back into shape for the next baseball season, and though the coach was skeptical, he could see the effort she was making. this time it was her decision to continue, not her father’s; everything about her life was in spite of him instead. but once baseball season was over, she found herself slipping back into old habits, only to have to train as hard to get ready for the next season. it was a vicious cycle, but without baseball to distract her, she couldn’t sit with her own thoughts. and then the college offers started pouring in, everyone wanting a piece of the pr gold mine she was. she decided on ucla, because it was as far away as she could get from the demons that haunted her mind whenever it was at rest. but what the fuck was she supposed to do with her life, besides baseball?

parker’s radio show came about towards the end of her freshman year at the campus radio station. it took a lot of work to convince her professor to actually let her start one, since she wasn't exactly known for being "responsible", but with months of research and planning to back her up, her professor finally gave in. with parker's popularity around campus, "parks and sex" quickly became the most listened to radio show in the area, and once it became available for download on itunes and spotify, the most downloaded podcast. for the first time, it was something that truly felt like her accomplishment.

and then, her little sister got sick.

the middle child of five, the hassan siblings were thick as thieves their whole lives, and parker had been the first to make a break for it. as soon as the semester ended, she was on a plane home and in the process of transferring back. as much as she wanted to keep her hopes high that her sister would be okay, she also didn’t want to miss what could be her last moments with them. her last semester of college is underway, and she’s terrified for what comes next, but hey — at least the baseball team has been doing better since she got back!

#irvingintro #i have like five minutes before i have to clock in now so the last paragraph is trash #bt enjoyyyyyyyy

[raeynbowboi]

How to Play as Cyborg in DnD 5e

Next up in our Teen Titans marathon of builds, we’ll build Victor Stone, better known as Cyborg. I sure thought this was going to be a much simpler build, yet I’ve spent two days working and reworking it, and it ended up being nothing like I initially assumed. But in the end, I’m positive this was for the better, as it turned out much better than I expected.

Our first instinct is probably to make Cyborg a Warforged, but here’s the problem with that: Cyborg was born human. He needs to eat, sleep, breathe, these are all things Warforged don’t do. And Cyborg has multiple episodes fixated on maintaining his humanity. To not make him a human is to completely miss the point of his character. Obviously, he is no longer a Standard Human. He has changed. We’ll call him a Variant Human, and we’ll give him Heavy Armor Mastery to reduce non-magical melee damage by 3. We’ll give him +1 INT/+1 CON and he’ll get +1 STR from his free feat.

Mythic Odysseys of Theros gave us the Athlete background. You get proficiency with Athletics and Acrobatics. Next, we’ll pick two Fighter skills, we’ll go for Intimidation and Perception. You’re a big tough guy, and there’s probably a radar or GPS somewhere in all that machinery.

We’re largely a team player, but on more than one occasion we’ve left the team to try and become a solo hero or lead another team. I’d say we’re Chaotic Good.

FIGHTER Brute

We’ll kick off our Cyborg Build as a Fighter. Don’t worry, we’ll be multi-classing, but starting as a Fighter starts us off with Heavy Armor proficiency, which is nice. Plus, we were a human athlete long before we ever became part robot. The Brute Fighter adds 1d4 to every damage roll, meaning you really pack a whollap. It’s almost as if you’ve got brass knuckles or something. Speaking of knuckles, Cyborg likes to punch things, so we’ll pick Unarmed Combat from the Fighting Style options. We deal 1d8 + STR bludgeoning damage when punching with two hands, or 1d6 + STR when our other hand is busy holding something. At 7th level, we get to add 1d6 to saving throws, and if that puts the roll above 20, it’s treated as rolling a nat 20. At 10th level, the extra 1d4 damage increases to 1d6. At 15th level, when you land a crit, you add your Brute Fighter Level to the damage roll, meaning you’re putting out 2d8+5+1d6+15 (23-42) with two hands, or 3d6+20 (23-38) when you’re one-handed. That’s a whole lot of ouch. The next level up is even better, since at level 16, your extra 1d6 damage becomes 1d8. Meaning that by level 16, you’re dealing 3d8+21 (24-45) damage on a two-handed crit, or 2d6+1d8+21 (24-41) on a one-handed crit. And with three actions per turn, the odds of landing all that ouch are pretty high. If you’re allergic to UA subclasses, Champion also works, just not as well.

ARTIFICER Artillerist

Once you’ve started as a Fighter, we can hop on over to Artificer and choose the Artillerist. This gives us an Eldritch Cannon, which we’ll make Tiny so we can hold it in our right hand. We’ll be primarily using the Force Ballista, which has a range of 120 feet, deals 2d8 force damage, and pushes objects 5 feet away from the cannon. If you really want to focus on the cannon, it’ll increase to 3d8 at 9th level, but Cyborg is supposed to be the Tank/DPS of the party. Firing from long range is Starfire’s specialty. Instead, it’s better to have more levels of Fighter and hit more often, and just have the Artificer as much as necessary for ranged combat. But don’t fret, because that Cannon is going to get a lot of usage, because it can be fired on every bonus action, which as a Fighter means you’re going to be dishing out a ton of pain. You can be one-arm boxing an enemy within melee range, while sniping another enemy clear on the other side of the battlefield, and with 3 attacks per turn in the late game, Cyborg has the option to be dishing out 4 attacks total per turn. There’s a reason he’s the muscle of the team.

CYBORG’S SPELLS

Cantrips Mending Message (Titan Communicators)

1st Level Grease Longstrider Jump Shield Thunderwave

To be fair, if we’re going to use our spell slots for anything, its building another Eldritch Cannon if the first one is destroyed. Plus, everything Cyborg could do at first level, Raven can do better, and she has a lot more spell slots to put to it.

ARTIFICER INFUSIONS

Due to our low level, we only get 4 infusions. Now some specify having weapons, but we chose Unarmed Combat. Me personally, I take that as meaning our hands are our weapons, but check with your DM how they consider it, because there’s also a lot of fighter features that only trigger with a weapon attack, so don’t use this build if your DM is stingy about Unarmed Combat not counting as a Weapon attack, because otherwise a lot of your features aren’t going to trigger.

ARMOR OF TOOLS Integrate Tinkerer’s Tools into your armor, add your INT mod to tool checks made with those Tinkerer’s tools.

ENHANCED DEFENSE Increase your AC by +1.

MIND SHARPENER If you fail a spell concentration saving throw, use a reaction to pass instead.

REPLICATE MAGIC ITEM: GOGGLES OF NIGHT Cyborg can create Goggles of Night, letting him see in the dark.

If your DM lets you treat your Hands as weapons drop Mind Shapener and pick up Enhanced Weapon.

ENHANCED WEAPON Add +1 to weapon attack rolls and damage rolls.

ARMORY

Cyborg needs Heavy Armor to act as his robotic body. Molten Bronze Skin (Plate) from Mythic Odysseys of Theros is a new rare heavy armor that is skin-fitting and can be worn under clothes and doesn’t impose stealth disadvantage, which is important, because Cyborg has never made so much noise that he gave away his party. Because it’s molded to his body, it can’t be removed unless he chooses to doff it. Thus,  we have a human who is basically made of metal. How bout that?

As the Tank of the party, only three stats really matter to Cyborg’s Build: Strength will determine how much damage he deals with his punches, Constitution will ensure that he has a big pool of health so he doesn’t die all the time like a wimp, and Intelligence because his Eldritch Cannon’s accuracy is aimed like casting a spell. Because he’s heavily armored, his Dexterity won’t affect his AC, and to be fair, Cyborg isn’t very nimble. He seems quite bulky and heavy-footed. All those Fighter ASI give us the kind of stats I’d hoped to give Starfire.

STR 20 DEX 10 CON 20 INT 18 WIS 10 CHA 8

I spent one of his too many ASI to give him Tough to further maximize his HP. You could max out his INT, but as Raven is the party Intelligence caster, it’s valid to want her INT to be higher than Cyborg’s. With a final HP score of 260 and an AC of 19, Cyborg is starting to look a bit like a one-man army. Not only that, but he reduces non-magical melee damage by 3, and adds 1d6 to saving throws, meaning ranged spell attacks are the only great way to hurt him without him possibly reducing the damage.

HAVE A HEART, TIN-MAN Brute Fighter (16) Artillerist Artificer (4)

STR 20 DEX 10 CON 20 INT 18 WIS 10 CHA 8

ARTIFICER INFUSIONS Armor of Tools Enhanced Armor Enhanced Weapon/Mind Sharpener Replicate Magic Item: Goggles of Night

Between the super charged melee damage, and the fact that Cyborg can also fire his Eldritch Cannon as much as he wants makes this a great combination. He doesn’t need spell slots just to shoot it like some other casters, making it a truly great dual-wielding option. He’s got the HP to shrug off damage, and the power to decimate his opponents. He becomes weaker when he pulls out his cannon in terms of melee combat, but it’s twice as powerful as his two-handed boxing, so it’s a good trade-off.

Variant Rule: Mythic Odysseys of Theros

Unscarred. As a reaction, reduce damage taken by 1d12 + CON mod once per long rest.

Piety: Purphoros, God of the Forge

+3 Cast Shield of Faith equal to your INT mod per long rest. +10 Cast Heat Metal once per long rest. You have advantage against being knocked prone. +25 Use your reaction to avoid being pushed. +50 Increase your Strength or Intelligence by 2 to a maximum of 22.

We set out to make Cyborg a high damage DPS striker who could tank a hit like it was nothing, and I think we’ve accomplished that with this build. Some might argue for a 12/8 split, and it’s certainly passable, but Cyborg really doesn’t need it. He’s not a caster. Cyborg is the muscle, and that’s what he’s doing. He’s only an Artificer for the arm cannon, otherwise, he’s primarily a melee fighter, and I don’t want to waste his levels on something that’s not his primary focus.

#cyborg #teen titans #dungeons and dragons #dungeons & dragons #dnd 5e #dnd #d&d #d&d 5e #dnd fifth edition #dnd 5th edition #5e #fifth edition #5th edition #victor stone #stone #new teen titans #dc #dc comics

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

Hitmen AU! | Head Canons | 19+ [Haikyuu!!]

KΛЯΛƧЦПӨ [PART i] [PART ii] [PART iii]

Here’s the second part to the head canons for Karasuno~~~ Once the main head canons and ideas for all of Karasuno are out I’ll start dropping more random little one-shots hehe

Again! Feel free to ask questions or request anything from this AU! (Once again, specify so that I know~!)

» » Admin Ko

»»————-　♔　————-««  

N̷i̷s̷h̷i̷n̷o̷y̷a̷ ̷Y̷u̷

Where to even begin with this boi 

He’s definitely one of the more chaotic members of the group that’s for sure

Always testing out new skills and tricks he’s learned from those around him 

and god forbid the internet 

There have been one too many times where one of his veteran members or even the rookies walk in on him doing something rather peculiar which has him more or less flustered and embarrassed

Out of all of the members, he’s one of the most rambunctious 

Always happily chatting away on any topic without a care in the world

Usually ends up in mock spars with Tanaka with Ennoshita reluctantly being the scorekeeper and 3rd man in just in case one of the two happens to go a little too far with getting a win

He seems to be the most normal at first, but when he began talking about various torture methods and the effectiveness of each with horrifying accuracy and knowledge says otherwise

He’s the inventor of the group, always testing his new discoveries in torture and information gathering 

is the “bad” cop when the victim they’ve captured hasn’t broken from Tsukkishima’s relentless psychological torture

“ALRIGHT~! IT’S FINALLY MY TURN~!” 

Giddy and impatient, the shortest member of Karasuno surged forward with surprising silence as his sepia eyes practically glowed with unhinged insanity.

The victim began sweating profusely as the taller of the pair merely sighed at his senior before backing off. The blond refused to get caught up in another one of his senior’s hi jinks.

“Oh? Focusing on something other than me? You’re quite brave! I like that! That means we’re gonna have a nice long conversation!” 

A wicked grin spread along the energetic male’s face as the victim finally noticed the oddly shaped object in his hand.

“Oh this? I wanted to try out this new peeler...” 

The shiver that ran down the victim’s spine was one long overdue as the sudden pressure he felt from the man before him came barreling down in waves. His previous giddy attitude now replaced by utter silence as his umber eyes bore deeply into his soul.

Appearance wise, Noya has by far, the most tattoos out of the other members. Each one gained after successfully learning a new skill

he may be the shortest in their group, but he is one of the strongest 

normally, his hair would be in it’s signature slicked up state, but with how often he’s training and testing new skills it’s usually stuck in a half gel half bed head state

With his s/o he’s overly energetic and practically smitten

it’s a running joke that before he met his s/o he and Tanaka would be at Kiyoko’s heels trying to woo her

of course that all came to an abrupt end when he met his s/o

Despite being a busy bee, Noya tries his best to make time for them whenever he’s not assigned on info gathering assignments

He usually likes to koala cling to them when they’re in the vicinity

and has tried on many occasions to convince them to just live with them at their establishment

R̴y̴u̴n̴o̴s̴u̴k̴e̴ ̴T̴a̴n̴a̴k̴a̴

Another one of the chaotic members of the group 

loves to be called senpai by the rookies (Noya loves being called senpai too sksk)

one of the main chasers of the group

is also the designated driver when on larger group missions because of his, well, chaotic driving

In a sense, he’s kind of the delivery boy? Lol 

He once tried to be a part of the interrogation team but it was concluded that Noya and Tanaka together ended with the victims dead sooner than anticipated

Is the chaser, a.k.a. any assignments that think they can run away with Tanaka on their tail has another thing coming

Despite being loud and chaotic, is sometimes forgotten as he is the last resort for when targets manage to escape

“Oh ho ho~! Finally something to do besides watching Hinata get his ass handed to him!” An small ‘Hey!’ coming from the background as the male stood at the entrance of their base. Motorcycle helmet in hand as a sinister and wicked grin graced his features.

“Any sorta restrictions boss?” A glance over his shoulder at the figure leaning against the staircase pillar. The figure in question merely gave him a blank stare as Tanaka couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“No traces. Gotcha. Since I don’t have any restrictions....I’ll be filing my report late~.” 

With that, the excited male made his way out and onto his bike. A quick rev of the engine and a wave to the rookies the Chaser set out to catch his prey.

Like Noya, Tanaka is a ripped boi and covered in not only battle scars but tattoos of his accomplishments against hard enemies

He has a shaved head, with some tattoos on his scalp 

Hinata thought it was the coolest shit ever and wanted one too but Sugawara stopped him from shaving his own head

Likes the delinquent school look so tries to stick as close to it as he can

With his s/o he’s surprisingly gentle

treats them like royalty and grovels at their feet 

He spends most of the day with them unless the rookies really fuck up sksksk

loves having his hand in their back pocket or hooked around one of their belt loops

C̷h̷i̷k̷a̷r̷a̷ ̷E̷n̷n̷o̷s̷h̷i̷t̷a̷

plz help this boi 

is the unspoken boss for the second batch of recruitments

has to deal with Tanaka’s and Noya’s bullshit constantly

He’s part of the defense team in not only the technical side, but physical side if need be

is a whizz with the cyber end when customers purchase their services

is the one who runs the assignments by Daichi first before assigning and handing them out to the members

the rookies rely on him heavily and the recruitment gang during his time dote and love to try and help or... annoy the hell out of him (read, Tanaka and Noya)

“So this is the assignment for the week. If we’re successful it’ll be $50,000.” Stern, yet soft spoken the male handed the younger a manila envelope.

“You’ve trained hard for this. So we expect little to no fuck ups----” He began before a loud and the beginnings of a headache began to form as the younger male began to slowly back away. Promising to fulfill the assignment with no issues before scurrying off as shouts began in the common room.

“DAMN NOYA YOU REALLY IMPROVED THAT FROM LAST TIME!” 

“DON’T UNDERESTIMATE MY SHEER WILLPOWER RYU!! HAHAHA!”

“TANAKA! NISHINOYA! WHAT THE HELL DID I SAY ABOUT TESTING IN THE FUCKING COMMON ROOMS?!” 

Is lean like Sugawara

and like the rest of the members of Karasuno, he has at least one tattoo on his body

soft fluffy bed hair 25/8 because baby deals with all the bullshit that is rookies and tananoya antics

has dark circles, not super intense but can be seen close up

is fairly normal with his s/o

though he doesn’t get to see them as often

anytime he gets with his s/o is coddle time

he pulls out all the romantic shit in one sitting or it’ll be all the sexy shit in one sitting it’s never really one or the other

loves to lay his head on s/o’s lap

H̴i̴s̴a̴s̴h̴i̴ ̴K̴i̴n̴o̴s̴h̴i̴t̴a̴

one of the few quiet members of their squad

was actually very reluctant on joining the team initially, but persevered through and stuck with them

is one of the other inventors 

is more of the practical one and keeps noya from doing anything too out of hand

doesn’t mean he doesn’t start shit on his own though sksksk

likes to spar with Ennoshita (since he won’t have to worry about a surprise rolling thunder a.k.a rolling and shooting a powerful taser from yours truly)

“Kinoshita-san!” Pausing his work, the male in questioned glanced to the lab entryway as he cocked his head to the side at the sight of the rambunctious deviant duo before him.

“...Yes?” He asked hesitantly, already feeling a gnawing feeling in his gut that whatever was about to be asked was going to end up with him in the following situations

Wreaking havoc and being scolded by Ennoshita

Wreaking havoc and being scolded by Daichi

Wreaking havoc and being scolded by both Ennoshita and Daichi 

None of which sounded appealing to him as he mentally prepared himself to reject whatever demands the pair wanted. Though of course that didn’t come to pass as the scream of, “ROLLINGU....THUND....AAAAARRRR!!!!!!” echoed throughout the base as a thud resounded and the base. At this point, it was to no one’s surprise that Ennoshita was already on his way to give Nishinoya an earful as the two demons blinked slowly before backing away.

“N-Never mind!” 

Ah yes, the power of being able to deter chaotic activities. Kinoshita wished he had that ability as he resumed his work.

Despite being the second shortest, no one really messes with Kinoshita

His build is in between Ennoshita and Nishinoya 

again, like the rest he has a couple of tattoos

usually has a pair of goggles sitting atop his head as he doesn’t really leave the laboratory 

he wants to redeem himself for attempting to leave initially

with his s/o he can seem emotionally distant

but that’s mainly because he’s either sleep-deprived or distracted

Loves to just lay in bed with s/o whenever he has a free day

 K̴a̴z̴u̴h̴i̴t̴o̴ ̴N̴a̴r̴i̴t̴a̴

The friendliest member 

The rookies felt comfortable to talk to him upon first meeting him and is a reliable rock when need be

does a lot of work in the behind the scenes such as shadowing targets and helping with any sort of basic chores at the base

he’s a scouter for new areas of establishment or even a quick interrogation area in a pinch 

sometimes gets mistaken for Tanaka but doesn’t really mind

has the friendly carefree vibe that turns hella terrifying when it needs to be

“Narita, can you find us a place to interrogate these shit stains?” Looking up from his place by the car, the male in question nodded as he took a brief once over the entire area. Considering the situation and the amount of victims they had, it would be wise for a wide spaced area with a place to easily dispose of the bodies along with coming up with a reasonable excuse in case someone came along to ask questions.

“...hm...” Softly humming, he walked over to the desolate area, skimming it briefly before taking note of the cloaked figure. Raising a brow, he moved towards the figure to find that it was the last of the target’s help. Lightly laughing he couldn’t help but smile.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare ya there but...you’re really not good at hide and seek are you?”

The friendly smile on his face twisting to that of horror as the male beckoned his teammates over after giving the all clear.

Like Tanaka, Narita has a shaved head but chooses not to have any tattoos on his scalp

instead, his tattoos range from his arms and back to his torso

he’s lean, similarly built to Tanaka if not only slightly smaller

is immensely loving to his s/o 

if he can he would try to be with them as much as he can to ensure his own humanity hasn’t gone away

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu au #hitmen au #karasuno #haikyuu!! #nishinoya yuu x reader #ryunosuke tanaka x reader #chikara ennoshita x reader #hisashi kinoshita x reader #kazuhito narita x reader #reader insert #alternate universe #nishinoya yuu #ryunosuke tanaka #ennoshita chikara #kinoshita hisashi #narita kazuhito

[mundxngus]

MISTREAT YOUR ALTAR BOYS & THIS IS WHAT YOU GET

𝖖 𝖚 𝖔 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

“A liar, a thief, and utterly without conscience. But he'll keep to any deal you strike with him.” — Six of Crows, Leigh Bardugo. “Courage has never been a chameleon’s best attribute and some days, it’s not mine either.” — Rudy Francisco “It’s my money. I stole it.” — From Dusk til Dawn.  “The thief, as will become apparent, was a special type of thief. This thief was an artist of theft. Other thieves merely stole everything that was not nailed down, but this thief stole the nails as well.” — Sourcery, Terry Pratchett.

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: Mundungus Proinsias Fletcher NICKNAMES: Dung, Fletcher, (many a variation on the truly horrific name he was gifted with.) AGE: 29 BIRTHDAY: August 3, 1950.  GENDER: CisMale PRONOUNS: he/his

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: Agnes Mary Fletcher nee Duffy (deceased) muggle. FATHER: Proinsias Rafferty Fletcher (54, estranged) wizard.  SIBLINGS: Harriet (Hatty) Duffy (33), Noreen Duffy (32) (estranged). muggles.

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

FACE CLAIM: DJ Cotrona. BUILD: Short, athletic, surprisingly strong and scrappy.  HAIR:  Kept cropped short, noticeably longer than usual due to a falling out with Knockturn’s resident barber. HAIR COLOR: Black. EYE COLOR: Dark brown. SKIN COLOR: Olive-toned. DOMINANT HAND: Ambidextrous, though he favours his left hand as a rule. ANOMALIES: There is heavy scarring up his right arm which he has made an effort to cover with tattoos. Notably amongst these tattoos is nestled a compass (which will aways find the right direction in a bind), a swallow on the back of either hand to signify an accomplished traveller, a black cat wearing a hat on his bicep, a murder of crows dominate his right forearm and a ship across his ribs.   SCENT: Tobacco, whiskey and something that hits the back of the nose like a kick of pepper.  ACCENT: A strong Belfast accent that has failed to soften no matter how long he stays away. ALLERGIES: Deeply allergic to Mandrake Root and, as a result, a great many potions that are used as antidotes to various ailments. DISORDERS:  A much denied and buried case of PTSD that will emerge in the presence of explosions or fire. FASHION: Estate Sale-chic, as the kids would say. Dung is fond of a good bargain, though how good the bargains he finds amongst dead people’s things is .. often questionable. He dresses nicely, but always slightly oddly, as if the clothes he’s wearing weren’t meant for him or have been heavily modified (usually with a few dozen extra pockets for .. reasons). A permanent fixture of his wardrobe is a silver pendant of Saint Jude on a chain, gifted to him by his mother. It is perhaps the only thing he has ever been sentimental about. NERVOUS TICS: Picking at his nails. He’ll often play with coins or cards when restless - silly sleight of hand and card-tricks that promote dexterity. Playing with the pendant he wears on a chain around his neck. Smoking is usually a fair sign of stress. QUIRKS: Very expressive with his hands while talking, quick on his feet, talks fast and mercilessly, usually as a form of distraction. 

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: In the flat above The White Wyvern, Knockturn Alley. BORN:  Belfast, Ireland. RAISED: Holyland, Belfast, Ireland.  PETS: None. He is a big hit with the stray cats of Knockturn Alley though.

CAREER: Professional thief, part-time Bartender, fight club Bookie, jack of all crimes. EXPERIENCE: A long and colourful rap sheet, much maligned by the Auror’s Department. EMPLOYER: Officially, Frederick “Fat Freddie” Gamp, owner of the White Wyvern & Billy “Black Cap” Nightshade, owner of the Spiny Serpent. Unofficially? Himself, or whoever requires his services.

POLITICAL AFFILIATION: The Order of the Phoenix, technically.  BELIEFS: A pragmatist at heart, Mundungus aligns himself with the people who are least likely to kill him for the state of his blood. Survival and profit have always been his key motivators. MISDEMEANORS: Look. FELONIES: Don’t @ him.  DRUGS: Recreationally. SMOKES: Fitfully. Usually when stressed. ALCOHOL: Is he permanently just this side of drunk or is it all an act? We just don’t know. DIET: Does he exist solely on cigarettes, alcohol and bacon butties? Scientifically unproven.

LANGUAGES: English, smidgens still of Gaeilge. 

PHOBIAS: Fire, explosions, being trapped or confined. HOBBIES: Stealing from the rich, romantic moonlight graverobbing, banter with the locals at the Wyvern. Mundungus is never not on the grift. TRAITS: { + }: Resourceful, Quick-Witted, Silver-Tongued, Dynamic, Cunning. { - }: Opportunistic, Self-Serving, Callous, Disloyal, Boastful. 

𝖋 𝖆 𝖛 𝖔 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

LOCATION: Almost any part of Knockturn Alley, but in particular the rooftop of the White Wyvern is a favourite haunt when he does not wish to be around people. SPORTS TEAM: The Ballycastle Bats, out of some lingering loyalty to his hometown. GAME: Betting. Though he’s always been a fan of boxing. MUSIC: Will listen to almost anything and is a big fan of the enchanted jukebox in the White Wyvern (cursed to only ever play one song), but he is vehemently not a fan of Celestina Warbeck.  MOVIES: He has vivid memories of his sisters watching movies while they were growing up, but he’d never had the patience required to sit down and watch them.  FOOD: Ulster Fry. BEVERAGE: Firewhiskey, on a discerning day. A pint on any other. COLOR: Black. It doesn’t show the stains.

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: Slytherin. WAND:  14 1/4″, surprisingly swishy, spruce & dragon heartstring.  AMORTENTIA: Whiskey, the smell of bacon frying, votive candles and incense. PATRONUS:  Ferret — curious, mischievous and high energy, ferrets manifest for people with playful spirits and calculating minds. They represent resourcefulness, self-reliance, and ingenuity. BOGGART: His mother, burning.

𝖈 𝖍 𝖆 𝖗 𝖆 𝖈 𝖙 𝖊 𝖗

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral. MBTI: ESTP-A MBTI ROLE: The Entrepreneur  ENNEAGRAM: 7 ENNEAGRAM ROLE: The Enthusiast TEMPERAMENT: Sanguine WESTERN ZODIAC: Leo CHINESE ZODIAC: Tiger PRIMAL SIGN: Wolverine TAROT CARD: The Magician, The Devil. TV TROPES: The Punch Clock Hero, Magnificent Bastard, Jerkass Has A Point, Loveable Rogue, Opportunistic Bastard, Karma Houdini, Deadpan Snarker, Honour Among Thieves, Not In This For Your Revolution.  SONGS: The Calling by The Killers, From the Ritz to the Rubble by Arctic Monkeys, Lucky Penny by JD McPherson. 

IDEOLOGIES: Would sell his own (dead) mother to satan for a corn-chip. That was a lie, he loved his mother. (Two corn-chips.) Has been banned from The Hog’s Head since 1975 after an unfortunate falling out with Aberforth Dumbledore. Up until the travel restrictions, he still regularly (with varying success) attempted to find his way in, not out of any particular want to be there, but mostly to prove that he could. Goatfucker. The point being that the surest way to get Dung to do something is to tell him that he can’t do it. Is morally opposed to the musical stylings of Celestina Warbeck. Conversely, is not morally opposed to grave-robbery. Believes that cats are both a) the closest thing to demonic activity he has encountered on God’s Green Earth and b) feels spiritually attuned to them.  Survival is the only thing that truly matters, everything else is just pocket-change.

#dulcetask #& mistreat your altar boys and this is what you get { development } #& the punch clock hero { about }

[lovelyrocker]

Love Is Blind Ch.5

~RPF

~Warnings: Jared being extremely sweet.(yes, that needs a warning!), Angstish

~ Characters: Jensen, Jared, Lexi(OFC), Danneel, Genevieve, JJ, Shep, Tom, Amy(OFC), Cliff

~Pairings: Jared x Lexi(Eventually)

~Word Count: 3,507

 Love Is Blind Masterlist

<Previous Chapter

*Six Months Later*

Lexi had been living her chaotic life with her brother for a little over a year. She thrived at her new school and was soon making straight A’s, had dozens of friends and seemed to indeed  be a social butterfly. Yet, she was head strong and hard to change her mind when she was passionate about something. Which is one of the reasons they she was in the position she was in now.

Lexi sat in the chair outside of the principal’s office taping the toe of her high heel on the leg of the chair next to her. She had altered her normal uniform into a provocative ensemble. Her white button down was tied at the bust, her skirt had been dramatically shortened, and her hair was tied up in pigtails. She tried to listen in on the conversation in the office but had trouble hearing completely.

The door opened and Jensen walked out with the principal, the two of them shaking hands. Jensen turned to Lexi and pointed towards the exit. “Go.” They walked to the car in silence, and as soon as the car door shut, Jensen turned to her. “Really?! What the hell were you thinking?!”

“I think we may have gotten through to them.” Lexi gave a playful glance and a shrug.

They continuously bickered the whole drive home up until they walked into the house. “All I’m saying, Lex, is you could have done it a different way.” Jensen tossed his jacket on the back of a chair, walking into the kitchen.

“Could have done what different?” Danneel asked turning around, her jaw dropping when she saw Lexi. “Oh my God, what did you do to your uniform?”

“Lexi and her friends decided to protest at school today.” Jensen rubbed his temples.

“Protesting what?” Genevieve asked as she walked in, Jared chasing the kids through the room, suddenly stopping.

“What are you wearing?!” Jared froze looking at Lexi. Genevieve, without hesitation, reached up and smacked Jared over the head. “Ow! What was that for?!”

“Just because we are divorced doesn’t mean I can’t still smack you when you are ogling a girl that’s not even legal.”

Jared grinned as he sat across from Jensen. “Sorry. I’m just a little shocked to see Lex dressed like Britney Spears.” He poked fun but in reality Jared was trying not to stare at her protruding cleavage.

“And that is exactly the point of the protest!” Lexi shouted. “Thank you, Jared.” She nodded in appreciation to him.

“Speaking of, can you please?” Jensen said, beginning to button her shirt. 

Lexi swatted him away and buttoned up her blouse. “Look, the point is we have no issue with the uniforms. The issue is the comments and vulgarities that the male half of the student body shouts at us daily. And when they do, the teachers and faculty say it’s just ‘boys being boys.’” She air quoted. “But when we make their words reality, we get reprimanded.”

“So you call the principal a sexist?!” Jensen’s voice rose several octaves.

“Oh, I didn’t call him a sexist. I said him not acknowledging the issue was sexist behavior.” She said with a wave of her hand.

“Well, you’ve got my support.” Danneel shrugged with an approving smile.

“Same here. Fight the power!” Genevieve said, extending a hand and high fiving Lexi.

“Okay, no!” Jensen looked at Genevieve and Danneel annoyed. “You two are supposed to back me up, not encourage X-Tina.”

 “Okay, Lex, go change.” Danneel gestured to the stairs.

“Fine.” Lexi let out a groan with another eye roll walking towards the stairs. 

“She graduates in two weeks and she does this?” Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose. “And it’s not like I can stay mad at her.” He looked at his wife speaking with his hands in frustration. “She tells me in the car on the way home she enrolled into the university with the money from modeling.”

“Really?” Danneel asked, surprised and proud.

“I told her she should have said something. I would have fronted the bill or dad, no questions. She said she wanted to do it herself. Kid didn’t even graduate yet and she is already working on college. She started like, two months ago. Did you know anything about this?” Danneel shook her head.

“I did.” Jared answered.

“You did?” Genevieve looked at him.

“Yeah, she asked me to help her pick out her classes.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Jensen questioned his friend.

“I thought you knew!” He shrugged.

“Well, I didn’t!”

“Boobies!” They heard Shep shout from the stairs.

“Your son has a thing for boobs.” Lexi said, walking into the kitchen with a t-shirt and jeans on, her hair flowing down her back.

“Not boobs in general, just your boobs.” Genevieve said with a grin. “He’s weird.”

“Well, at least he has good taste.” Jared smirked.

“I will stab you.” Jensen eyed him, Danneel and Genevieve laughing.

“I’m not saying that as a pervert.” Jared defend with his hands up. “I’m just saying, my kid likes beauty and brains.” He said, walking into the other room.

“We are off to the market. Y’all have the kids under control?” Danneel asked.

“Yeah, we’re good.” Jensen shooed her away.

Danneel leaned in and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You know who she reminds me of?”

“Hmm?” Jensen hummed looking sideways at her.

“You.” Both she and Genevieve said in unison.

Jensen knew they were right. Despite the twenty one year age difference and the fact that they were not even related by blood, Lexi and Jensen behaved an awful lot alike. He admitted to seeing himself in her so much at times that she could pass for his daughter. He loved her and protected her like one for sure.

After everyone had cleared the kitchen, Lexi walked by Jensen and he stopped her. “Punk, come here.” He pulled a chair out for her. “It’s not that I’m not proud of you for wanting to stand up for yourself and the other girls at the school. Just next time, can you do it with more clothes on, please?”

“Okay. And sorry if I pissed you off by having the school call you on your day off.”

“No worries.” He said, pulling her into a hug.

~

Two weeks later, Lexi walked across that stage in her cap and gown, the youngest on the stage. She was graduating at sixteen years old, nearly two years early. Jensen clapped and shouted his excitement and pride along with his mother, father, brother and sister. Genevieve, Danneel and Jared, and all the kids, were also in attendance to watch Lexi. Tom and Shep looked adorable in their little vests and bow ties as they cheered for Lexi. JJ donned an adorable red dress as she shouted for her Auntie Lex who couldn’t stop the radiating smile off her face. 

“I’m so proud of you!” Alan said as he squeezed Lexi into another hug. She didn’t have time to breathe before she was pulled into another hug from her mom, and the cycle kept going till she went through a dozen people.

  All Lexi asked for that night was a simple celebration with her family. Her mom, dad, brothers and sister, Danneel, Genevieve, Jared and the kids. A nice dinner and an evening together was more than enough for her, which worked for the most part, because schedules had everyone back on the road for home the next day, well, to the skies.

The graduation excitement was starting to settle down a month after and things were back into the normal routine for her. Well, sort of. Instead of starting Junior year with her friends she had modeling gigs here and there. Nothing huge, just small jobs that normally took twelve to sixteen hours. She was making a name for herself. Yet something seemed missing.

“Whatcha doing, Punk?” Jensen greeted as he walked into the house setting his bag down.

“Hey Dork.” She responded not looking up from her laptop.

Jensen observed the way she was sitting with her chin resting on the knee that was pulled up to her chest while the other dangled. ”You look awfully concentrated there.”

“Huh?” Lexi finally looked away from the screen.

“What are you looking at?” He made his way over to her side.

“Trying to decide what to do with my life." Lexi answered resting her head in her hand, her dark hair in messy waves.

"You still have plenty of time. You're only sixteen." Jensen assured with a smile.

"I know, but I thought I'd know by now. Thought I'd have it figured out." She said closing her laptop discouraged.

"Yeah, because graduating early and have two semesters of college under your belt shows you're totally slacking." Jensen said sarcastically. “And the whole modeling thing does nothing for you either.” He shrugged.

Lexi smiled up at her brother. "I've just been thinking a lot about everything."

"Everything?" Jensen looked at her oddly. "What's everything?"

"The fact that five years ago I saw my future as either a homeless person or living in some dump surrounded by drug addicts” She looked up at her big brother.”Five years ago I didn't think I had a future. Now I am sitting here with unlimited options at my disposal and nothing to stop me. It's a little overwhelming."

"It can be. Lexi, you're still so young. You're a little more than halfway to seventeen and have accomplished so much. You don't have to go big with everything you do. You know we love you either way.” He placed a hand on her arm. “ I am so, so proud of you and everything you have gone through and beat. Now is the time to go slow. You have always went at things zero to sixty. Go at your own time and figure out what you want. What makes you happy. Check out your options and make a few mistakes, explore. And when you find something that truly makes you happy, that you can see yourself doing the rest of your life, you'll know." She nodded her head really taking in everything Jensen was telling her. "And for the record," He smiled at her. "I am very grateful that you went through my garbage five years ago." She looked at him with a cheesy little sister smile and gave him a hug.

"Oh, I have an idea!" Lexi jumped from Jensen causing him to jump as well.

"That was quick."

"Can I hang out on set tomorrow? I always had an interest in the things they do there with the camera work and make up."

"Sure. But you'd have to wake up early."

When Jensen said early, he meant early. He shook Lexi's shoulders at three thirty the next morning waking her from her deep sleep. "Dude, what the hell?" She asked, her voice grumpy.

"Still want to come to set?" She could hear the amusement in his voice.

"What time is it?" Lexi grumbled squirming in her bed.

"Three thirty."

"Dude, roosters aren't even up this early." She said sitting on her elbows.

"We'll be downstairs." He chuckled, walking out of the room.

Lexi dressed and made her way downstairs ten minutes later. She walked into the kitchen and saw Jensen, Jared and Cliff with each a cup of Starbucks in hand.

"My lady." Cliff handed her a Venti latte.

"Oh my God, you are my favorite person in this room." She took the cup and sipped the hot liquid then hugged Cliff.

On set she was amazed and intrigued by the way things went. Lexi always loved visiting set, but this time she was there with purpose. She observed the camera man and asked questioned when she saw the director wasn't busy. The director taking time to show her a few things. She did the same with props and wardrobe and wandered off when it came to make up finding herself in the makeup trailer with the head makeup artist, Amy. Lexi asked question after question and watched tentatively as she apply prosthetics and make up to Misha. After two hours of being gone on set her phone rang.

"Where did you disappear to?" Jensen’s concerned voice chimed.

"I'm in the makeup trailer helping Amy beat up Misha."

"You're what?" Jensen asked confused.

"I've been in here for a while. The way she does things is really cool. And the stuff you guys use for blood is really good. Tastes like candy." She said licking her fingers Jensen hearing a smack over the line.

"Lex, stop eating the prop make up. If you need a sugar rush, Jared has a big bag of gummy bears in the drawer all the way to the left."

Lexi walked over opening the drawer. "Oh, thank you!" She said then hung up and ripped open the bag.

Lexi spent the majority of the day helping Amy with makeup. She was having fun with it and really enjoyed it. She was relaxed and having fun.

"So I hear you have a new helper?" Jared spoke as he walked in full of dirt.

"Dude, Lexi is awesome! She is a natural." Amy dotted. "She did the bruising and cuts on Misha by herself."

"Really?" Jared looked at Lexi impressed. “Nice!”

"So what are we doing to him?" Lexi asked excited.

"We are doing that." Amy pointed to the drawing depicting Sam rather coutinand bruised along his torso.

"This will be fun!" Lexi rubbed her hands together.

Lexi grabbed the items Amy instructed her to get as she popped another gummy bear in her mouth. "Are those my gummy bears?" Jared looked over.

Lexi swallowed quickly, barely chewing. "No." She turned to face him.

"Then what is in your hand?" Jared questioned.

"Jensen gave up your stash." Lexi said with an adorably guilty smile.

Jared smiled and Amy began to direct Lexi on applying makeup. She guided her along the instructions making sure Lexi had it correctly applied. After about fifteen minutes Amy’s cell rang. "Hey, I have to do a few touch ups on set, you got this?"

"Uh, no!" Lexi protested. "Dude, I only been doing this a day!"

"And your are great and a natural. Just keep doing what you're doing. I'll be back." Amy said as she walked out the door.

She froze not knowing what to do. Suddenly everything Amy taught her that day was gone. "You look like you’re gonna puke." Jared teased.

"Shut up." Lexi said as she grabbed the paper and looked it over once more.

"You're doing fine. Just relax." Jared couldn’t help but grin. Lexi wasn’t intimidated by much. But this made the cut.

Lexi finished the cuts on his forearm then looked at the paper. "I'm gonna need to get at your ribs." Without hesitation Jared pulled his shirt overhead. "Okay, skyscraper stand up. I'm not as short as all these other chicks around here."

“Yes, ma”am.” Jared stood and Lexi got to work on the prosthetic for the gashes on his side. She moved the brush with procesion making sure she matched every stroke to the page. As she smoothed the edges of one section Jared jerked away and let out a muffled chuckled. 

Lexi leaned back on her heels and held her hands up. "What'd I do?"

"Nothing." He answered with a smile. "I'm ticklish there."

"I'm sorry." She smiled and continued to press the application gaining another chuckle from Jared. "Okay giggles do you need a minute?" She looked up at him with a laugh.

Jared shook his head with a grin and Lexi knelt down in front of Jared as she proceeded with the application. She smoothed her hands along his tanned, toned abdomen and up and down the canyons of his hips. She couldn't help but notice how tight and firm his body was. How his muscles flexed beneath her fingers with every little move. His skin hot to the touch. Lexi glanced up and saw Jared staring down at her. A slight smirk pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. She looked away quickly as her face suddenly felt hot. Good God this man's body was like a buffet in front of her. One she knew she could not eat from. And him looking down at her like that was enough to send her mind into the deep end. The door opened and Jensen stepped in then tilted his head looking at Lexi on her knees practically in front of Jared’s crotch.

"Is this a new service that we get with makeup now?" Jensen pointed at her. “If so i’m gonna need a different make up artist.”

"Yes, I was just about to blow his mind." Lexi countered with a giggle. “Come back in ten.” She stood up.

"Not an image I needed in my head." Jensen shook his head walking to the opposite chair, Jared laughing.

Later that night after they'd spent sixteen hours on set. Lexi spending the majority in the makeup trailer. Tired and feeling accomplished, she and Jensen were in the livingroom watching some oddball show having changed into their pajamas for the night.

Jared came down stairs, shirtless picking at the prosthetic cuts on his hip. "Hey, Jay?" he paused in the living room. "Did you have any trouble getting these prosthetics off?"

"No, mine washed off in the shower like normal." Jensen answered looking at him. “Why?”

"I did that and tried a few things but nothing. I wonder why it isn't coming off?" He continued to pick with the fake cuts walking down the stairs.

"That's because I used super glue for yours." Lexi said nonchalantly but with a smile of satisfaction on her face.

"What?" Jared’s head snapped up with surprise.

"You didn't." Jensen asked looking at her a smile extending on his face.

Lexi looked at Jared with a smile. "It's really not nice to brag about pranking people." She said innocently.

"How did you do this when I was looking at you the whole time?" Jared asked in disbelief.

"Not the whole time. And I'm quick." She giggled standing. "Don't freak though. I know how to take it off." She walked towards the bathroom and reemerged with what she needed.

"I can't believe you did this." Jared smiled as Lexi mixed the solution.”Sneaky little thing.” He shook his head. "You sly little evil geniuses, you." He had an air of pride in his voice, As Lexi began dabbing the solution to Jared's skin.

"Lex, smile for you handy work." Jensen snapped a picture as she and Jared made a quick pose. "I'm so posting this." He walked out the room looking down at his phone, still laughing.

Lexi tried not to let her attention drift as she dabbed the solution on the glue. It was rather difficult with Jared standing in front of her, shirtless with his abs perfectly toned and shaped in front of her. There was that buffet again. The V line of his hips so obvious in her face as it lead down into the top of his jogging pants. Pants that sat low, right above his most personal area.

"Thinking about something good?" Jared's voice pulled her back to reality.

"Huh?"

"You're biting your lip with a look of a naughty daydream on your face. Care to share?"

Lexi's cheeks flushed red and she looked away, focusing on her task. "Uh, no just, my mind drifted is all." She brushed off his comment.

"Looked like it drifted to a pretty good place." He smirked at her.

The red deepened on her cheeks as she continued removing the prosthetic. She could feel Jared's eyes on her, watching her every move. He was studying her, seeing her reactions. Was he flirting? My God chick, you inhaled way to much hairspray today. She thought to herself. But this wasn’t the first time it seemed like he was being a little too sweet to her. 

"Why are you staring at me like that?" She asked finally.

"Like what?" He asked with a tiny tilt of his head.

"Just, the- the way you are right now.”

Jared chuckled. "Because you're cute when you get embarrassed." Lexi looked up at him not expecting him to say that. "And when you drift off, thinking of something...interesting," he lifted a hand and gently pushed her hair from her eyes, letting his fingertips skim across her features for a second. "You look tempting." The words left his mouth without thinking. "Tempted, I mean, you look tempted." He quickly corrected.

Lexi took a breath as his slip broke some of the tension and the air eased up a bit. "All done." She said standing, gathering her things and making her was to her room without another word confused at the way he just touched her. So gently. So sweet. He was not helping her crush that’s for damn sure.

Next Chapter>

Tags: @saxxxyjared , @xostephanie

#SPNFamily #SPN #supernatural #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles #JaredxOFC #OFC #RPF #spn rpf #LoveIsBlind #choices

[tarithenurse]

On my mind, in my soul - 4

Prompt: Blue, floor, Foreigner’s God by Hozier (passages in block quotes) Pairing: Loki x Burglar!reader. Content: Swearing, angst, pain (mostly emotional), arguing, sadness, mention of trauma, LEMONS (with a hint of dom/sub?)...fluff? A/N: Link to previous chapters in Masterlist (check bio or tab). If you want a tag, then just ask (yay). Please reblog if you enjoyed...or comment! Comments are nice too. When that’s said...probably a shitload of typos etc bc i’ve not proofread ‘cause I’m in a shitty place mentally after a too social weekend (so worth it though). “Resume”: (Because this takes off right where we left last chapter)  The heavy sigh rattles you to your core. “I’m sorry for this, [Y/N].” Glancing briefly, you see how he runs a hand over his face, rubbing the tired eyes momentarily. “I can only imagine what you must think of me, truly…but I need you to hear me out, alright?”

It’s not like you have a choice, really, and this conversation has started nothing like you’d expected. “Then talk.”

Holding the Devil’s Hand

Waiting impatiently for the worst too happen, it surprised you when you realize he’s sitting down on the floor as far away from you as possible. There are other options for him to sit comfortably, still he’s chosen the least threatening option. It’s on purpose…trying to make me at ease. Drop my guard. Regardless the reasoning behind it, however, the silence still hangs heavy in the air, threatening to explode if neither of you say anything.

Her eyes look sharp and steady Into the empty parts of me

“I’m not good at these sort of things…apologies.” Stalling already with a sigh, Loki settles down more comfortably in the corner by the door. “I realize that…nothing I say can make it up to you…” You can feel his eyes on your back and it paralyses you, afraid what might set him off. “I…I’m prone to think very highly of myself and my skills as the God of Mischief and Chaos. Finding that I had been tricked and by a Midgardian girl no less?” He snorts in disbelief at his own words, releasing a hot prickle of anger in your chest. “I was intrigued. Amused more than offended…”

You grab the chance as he trails off. “So far you’ve said nothing that warrants fucking kidnapping me! Either get to it or let me go now!”

“Easy, tiger,” the god smirks, “my point is…your skills, personality…you…I see potential. The few testes I arranged proved that you’re exactly the partner in crime I need for a very delicate…challenge. I’ve been spending almost every waking hour since we parted to try to find you in the hopes of…convincing you to return so I could explain myself and extend an offer I think would be mutually beneficial,” Loki’s voice lowers to a purr, “because you can’t deny that we’re good together. Although…complementing each others’ baser instinct was a bonus which I thought you had no problem with until the…misunderstanding we –“

“Misunderstanding?” Spinning to face him, all the fear’s been flushed away by anger-fueled adrenaline and you can feel the nails dig into your palms to keep your hands from shaking. Anger at him. And anger at the heat in your core at the memories he awakens. “Misunderstanding!? Are you fuckin’ serious right now??!! You hit me so hard that I landed at the other side of the bloody room!”

He’s on his feet quicker than you can fathom and you jerk backwards until you collide with the bench by the window, sending you hard on your ass. The fearful retreat stops him short. Burning indignation reigned in in the same way he returns to the far side although he stays standing.

“What you accused me of being willing to do…” Loki’s voice’s shaking with anger although he tries to hold it back, “people may never think of me as good, but I have a code if you will. Some things that I’ll never lower myself to.”

“H-how should I…” The words are hardly getting across your lips as you stutter meekly along, so you try again. “Ho-ow should I know that?” It’s hardly a victory to finish a sentence, but this time it feels as though you’ve accomplished something grand, the little thrill enabling you to continue. “Prone, held at knifepoint by a guy who was accused of all sorts of shit. And not just here on earth.”

You know from experience how good Loki’s at using his tongue, but words don’t come easy as he opens and closes the pretty mouth of his until eventually, he stops trying and withdraws into himself. Once more, the only sounds is the faint buzz from the lamps and a gurgle in the waterpipes hidden behind the rich wallpaper. Rubbing the back of your legs where you’d slammed them against the seat, you assure yourself that not even a bruise will hint at your clumsiness.

The sound of a lock makes you look up to see Loki opening the door and stepping well out of the way, granting a clear path out of his bedroom. He doesn’t look at you, so you doubt your ears when he tells you that you are free to go.

Hesitantly at first, you tread across the soft carpet, each step bringing you close to freedom yet also fanning a doubt in your mind. Five steps to the door, Loki’s standing still in front of the mirror by the dresser. Four steps, you ignore the frown and glistening trail on his cheek. Two steps, and your legs are slowing, body fighting against the logic that urges you to hurry out and down the stairs, whishing no one will stop you. One step, and a memory presents itself, uncalled for at an inopportune moment which causes even your logic to hesitate. In the doorway itself, you come to a halt.

She feels no control of her body She feels no safety in my arms

“What was it?” Don’t hear the quiver of my voice, please.

You can see the staircase from where you stand, the broad steps granting a glimpse to the hall below.

“What was what?” Loki answers flatly.

“What was the reason the charges were dropped? About your role in New York?”

Everyone had been stunned when the news leaked, and it had been the rage in the media and online where the most absurd conspiracy theories went unchecked because really, what arguments were there anymore now that it was a fact that aliens existed?

“It’s of no consequence.” Arms cross over his chest, defiant and protectively. “Just leave. Forget about this. I will not bother you anymore.”

Dimwitted, emo-loving freak, your logic begins a rant to get you from doing exactly what you end up with anyways. A few steps back, while cussing yourself to Antarctica and back, brings the reflection of the god’s face back in view. Pale and hard. A hand nimbly swipes a wet shimmer away before it reaches the sharp jaw. Don’t fucking do it. It’s a trap. He’s a trickster. A liar. The sharp sting from the teeth sinking into your lower lip shuts up the inner monologue for a moment, allowing you to breathe deeply and way the risks.

All that I've been taught And every word I've got Is foreign to me

“You’d never given me a reason to actually…fear you…despite your majorly creepy stunts of breaking in to my place and shit…” The exhale comes as a puff, that stirs the fine particles dancing in the air between the open door and you. “The rules of our…game...thing…they were never clear, but you…you…uhm…” Struggling to put the chaotic thoughts into words, you know that you’re trying to convince yourself more than him and you hate yourself for it. “You’d not done anything I didn’t want be-before I accused you of wanting to…y’know…and you hadn’t even hinted that that was something…”

Loki has gone completely still, barely even breathing as he listens to the mumbled mess, but you’re at a loss at what you actually want to accomplish. Comfort him? He’d hurt you physically. Scared you. But if anyone had said something similar to you, wouldn’t you have lost your temper? Difference is, of course, that you don’t have the strength to literally knock someone through a wall.

“Gimme one good reason to trust y’again.” The harshness you’d tried to summon is inaudible, reducing your order to a plea.

“Not that.”

Staying quiet, you absentmindedly try to rub some warmth into your arms as you wait for the man to quit being stubborn. It’s going to be a long wait, but now that the door’s open you aren’t in as bad a rush as before.

“There’s an item which I greatly desire, but it’s of dire importance tha–“

“You can take the item and shove it unless you don’t answer my question,” your voice cracks like a whip, silencing Loki quite efficiently and you notice how the god’s body tenses.

A rustle accompanies the stubborn, no, haughty answer. “I told those who need to know about…the background for New York.”

“Then there’s no more to talk about.”

You’re in the hallway, when he calls out for you, broken and beaten by his own demons. I should continue. Already, your feet are rooted on the polished wood. I should leave. Soft footsteps are drawing near, urging you to run rather than turn to face the man the way you actually do, watching his cautionary movements and the tremble of his hands, feeling the cold roll over you once more. This is a trick. Eyes meet and you have no doubt that the pain he’s exhibiting is real.

“Tell me what happened.” It’s a soft murmur, spoken into his raven hair as you awkwardly pat his back.

It takes a minute or two before he straightens up, freeing you shoulder from the weight of his chilly head but taking your hands instead to tug you gently with him back into the room.

The door closes softly behind you, no click of the lock this time at least, as Loki silently offers the bed as a seat for you. You accept hesitantly, afraid of how long or short a time is left before the trap’s sprung. A trap you’ve walked into freely this time. Thankfully, he leans against the wall by the bathroom door with his head hung low as you fidget with the hem of the purple silk, trying to find some way to soothe your nerves. Can I take the cover? The air’s freezing.

“If you ever tell anyone about this…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. Doesn’t have to, really, mostly because even in your world there are some things that are sacred. He’s not the only one with a code. And then he begins talking about event long passed, about wrongs he had done of his own free will where not even the despair he’d felt was an excuse and no promises from neither him nor his family could right the many wrongs that had been committed. It had let to his fall. Literally and figuratively.

Then the tale takes a turn for the worse. To a darkness where words fail along with the god’s human appearance. As Loki talks about torture and pain beyond any you’ve experienced, his real form breaks free as if trying to protect him from the memories. Red eyes blur and burn in stark contrast to the ice that form around him, creeping towards you. And still you inch closer to him, to hear the words that are whispered hoarsely and to tentatively extend a quivering hand, placing it on his dark-clawed fingers.  Squeezing as he whispers the name of a Titan.

Screaming the name Of a foreigner's God The purest expression of grief

“I don’t want your pity,” he growls, trying to shake off the hand.

I know. “Good. ‘Cause you’re not getting it.” You manage to contain the sigh. “You’re still a fucking lunatic, but at least I know why…I can work with this…”

“You can…?” Eyes like blood scorch your skin.

Yeah, it’s not smart of me, though. “Gonna clear up some things if it’s gonna work…and you’ve got a shitload of sucking up ‘fore I forgive you for bashing me ‘cross the room.”

The reaction’s immediate, perfect proof that you’ve chosen the wrong words. A low frequency makes the air hum, and the face folds into that of a predator that’s both hungry and amused because it knows where to find the next meal without putting any real effort into it. Catching your wrist before you can pull your hand back, so you tug hard, pulling Loki’s on his knees before you as you scuttle back along the wide bed. Raven hair partially obscuring the smirk curling his lips, falling away grant a view of the shoulder blades oscillating under the thin, white shirt that’s stretching tight over the wider-than-normal body.

“How convenient.” The lip that darts out have an effect on more than just Loki’s lips. “I’ll do more than just…suck…up.”

Pressed up against the headboard, your only escape would be off the other side of the bed, but of course you don’t go for it because you’re a fool with no backbone to resist the silver-tongued god even now. That’s why you let him grab your ankles and pull you slowly to the edge of the bed, kissing each inch of skin as it gets within reach all the while he bunches up the thin fabric of your dress until his lips ghost across the very top of your inner thigh. A cold nose brush the soft lace as he switches attention from one side to the other, almost distracting you from the fingers that are wandering past your hips and across the expanse of you belly, straining the fabric and setting off shivers that have nothing to do with the cold of the room.

There’s a warm shimmer, a sign that you know very well already, exposing more of your body and granting Loki a chance to slither the exploring hand further until it skims the valley between the breasts to trace the delicate lace that does absolutely nothing to hide the perking nipples. Teasing and pinching them through the bra ads a lovely contrast to the feathery kisses and licks below the waist until you’re breathing raggedly, chasing Loki’s mouth with your still covered cunt.

Wide strokes of blue palms towards your hips send new waves of anticipation rushing along, and you can feel how slick your core is becoming even though the god hasn’t even touched you there. The moment his fingers hook on the panties, you can’t help but hold your breath. Glancing down between your legs to see delight warming the features decorated with lines…lines that you know from experience are practically everywhere on his body. But the green eyes are trained on the reveal happening before him as, inch by inch, your pussy’s bared.

“So beautiful.”  The words are carried on cold breath but hold more warmth and adoration than anyone else has ever shown for your body. “Perfect…and eager.”

You know somehow that you moan the moment his mouth finds your folds and begins to tease, driving you to writhing and whimpering to the precipice of release all while Loki’s kneeling on the floor between your feet. Each moan from your lips makes him hum with pleasure, sending vibrations into your core in a way that shouldn’t be possible. Every gasp and panting breath from your lungs causes him to suck greedily at your clit.

Somewhere in the process, you realize as Loki spreads your legs further, he’s removed your panties completely, but a particular strong lick that curls his tip of his tongue inside you chases any coherent thoughts away. Then you feel his fingers pushing and wiggling against the fluttering walls of your pussy, finding the g-spot and running over it again and again in slow pumps matching the pace of his lips. Teeth nibbling and tugging in a masterful feat of balance between pleasure and pain.

“Let me hear you…then I’ll let you cum.” Even when talking, Loki doesn’t let up but applies a thumb deftly to your clit. “Say my name.”

In the foggy storm of you mind, the words annoy you. That wasn’t the deal. It’s a struggle to get as far as to rest on your elbows because each movement requires coordinated use of your muscles that are trembling due to Loki’s ministrations. Finally in place, you catch his hooded, red eyes.

“N-no-o.” Your answer makes him slow down, but not stop. “You’ve no…right…to demand anything.”

You’re gasping for breath and in no condition to assert any imagined power, but pure stubbornness fuels you even as the man arches an eyebrow at you in disbelief. Lazy circles around the nerve bundle keeps you on edge, fingers slide effortlessly through the tight wetness in a way that sweep your g-spot gently.

“My dear, I believe you’re right…I did give my word.”

The low growl should have been warning enough in it’s own, but you’re too tightly wrapped in the ecstasy his adept handling has you stewing in to notice how his arms wrap around your thighs. All you know is that the world seems to shift around you sending you off the edge of the bed and impaling you swiftly around the ridged cock. All air leaves you in a warbled moan as the sudden intrusion topples you over the edge, back arching so you shoulders rest on the mattress, holding you partially in place like a safety in case your grip on Loki’s shoulders should fail. Even then, he’s got your hips in a bruising grip, lifting and lowering you effortlessly at a reckless pace without any risk of you slipping away.

Your core is spasming, sending thundering waves of heat each time the icy shaft bottoms out, ridges passing the sensitive spot each time. Sharp keens spur the god to rut into you wilder, practically shoving you back onto the bed as he leans over you to taste your skin. Lavish kisses and love bites soak up the pearls of sweat and he sucks greedily at your neck, you breasts, your mouth. The two of you share breaths through the superficial pantings, causing you to slowly black out from the mix of restricted air and the continuous orgasm burning through your body.

A cold thumb presses against your clit, rubbing tiny circles simultaneously bringing you even higher than you thought possible as Loki succumbs to bliss, your name woven into the shameless moan fanning your throat an instant before his leaves your lips as a ragged, breathy scream.

Screaming the name Of a foreigner's God …

Wrapped in Loki’s (now pale) arms, your thought are barely coherent enough to wonder if it’s a good idea to linger. He’s taken care of you gently and sweeter than you thought possible from someone like him.

Who am I kidding…there’s no one like him!

Those are your last thoughts as sleep claims you.

#loki x reader #loki x you #Loki Jotun #Loki Lemon #loki fanfic #loki marvel #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Laufeyson x reader #loki odinson #loki odinson x reader #Loki angst #Loki past #Loki trauma #Loki comfort #Jotun Loki #Jotun lemons #On my Mind in my Soul #Loki series that wasnt meant to be a seris

[fineillsignup]

Covering Your Ears to Steal a Bell update and wild speculation re: Gan Ning

So in the latest chapter of my (dark fic!! history is dark!! warnings!! read them!!) fic Covering Your Ears to Steal a Bell, I weave a blend of Dynasty Warriors tropes, popularly accepted history (the Sanguozhi), and the 14th century novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms (Sanguo Yanyi) to form my own fic. When you consider that ROTK is basically historical RPF and that the late Qing reform era Anti-Romance of the Three Kingdoms (Fan Sanguo Yanyi) was historical RPF fix-it fic where the author’s OC got to marry his favourite character (whose OC I have borrowed for my own fic), I am truly standing on the shoulders of giants when I wildly speculate on what a) actually happened b) would never have happened but is fun to imagine.

Now there’s a reason why my doc file for this Gan Ning centric story is “nice pirates are still not that nice”, and that attitude is basically how I approach this character who was, after all, a pirate living in decline of the Han dynasty China. Now, note, I’m not saying “everybody has to like Gan Ning, it’s compulsory”; but I am explaining why I like him and am not ashamed of it, even knowing all I know. Gan Ning gets the longest original section in volume 55 of the Sanguozhi, and the most later annotations, so you know what, people have liked talking about this guy for a long time. Was he their problematic fave too? Probably.

Gan Ning: Chinese pirate, my problematic fave

For people who aren’t aware, but for some reason want to try and follow along at home, the background: Gan Ning was a Chinese pirate active in the southeast-ish part of China around the year 200AD as the Han dynasty was falling apart. As regional warlords jockeyed for power, he joined up first with one (Huang Zu) and then with another who was going to beat the first (Sun Quan). The second one turned out to be pretty good at consolidating power, and carved out a kingdom called Wu in southeast China that became actually the longest lasting kingdom among the titular Three Kingdoms era of China.

They make him look something like this in the game series Dynasty Warriors. The bells and the feathers were actually his Marketing Trademark, and people remember them 1800 years later which goes to show how important it is to market yourself.

So when people are like “OMG did you know Gan Ning LIKED to KILL PEOPLE???” I’m like:

"Yeah but you don’t understand he liked to kill people for NO REASON!”

Yeah I’m still sitting here not terribly shocked. Even assuming the worst stories about him in his pre-Wu days were true—that he deliberately waited in houses where the occupants were away, just so that he would get to kill the people who lived there, instead of simply looting the houses and moving on—and not embellished to make him sound like more of a terror.... well, the end result is that he sounds like a terror, which, if you are trying to make your living as a pirate, is exactly the reputation you want? Or, to come at it with the same result but reversed, a person who is that eager to kill by nature is exactly the kind of person who would rise to significant power as a pirate in a chaotic era. So look at Captain Kirk there again for my reaction.

And again, it’s the era. What’s the difference between small-scale freelance murder and theft, aka piracy, and large-scale wholesale slaughter and theft, aka invading and conquering? In the latter case, often somebody to retroactively declare that you were emperor all along. In such an environment, I am even less eager to pass judgment.

And then there’s of course, the id. “Aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you want to just go apeshitt” as the meme says. Well, actually, I’m fine with being nice in my real life, but as Lin-Manuel Miranda says, some part of you wants to experience everything. And stories—and historical stories are still stories—are a way to do that.

So that basically takes care of “he was a killer!!” as an objection to liking him, in my books.

So in this particular chapter of my story, I deal with the other reason people usually bring up for hating Gan Ning, which is a story from the Sanguozhi (and therefore probably at least somewhat true) that involves a kind of controversy about child death (I’m on the side of arguing: probably not a child), but even without the age controversy, definitely involves murder; so not everybody wants to read it, so it’s under a cut. It’s a really fascinating story on a lot of levels so if you can handle stuff like “what happened to the princes in the tower” and similar historical horrors then you should be able to handle this.

Alright so here’s the relevant section from the Sanguozhi, the more-or-less intending to be accurate historical record from the Jin dynasty, written by a man named Chen Shou who, to be clear, was not even born yet by the time that Gan Ning died. So “what REALLY happened???” can never be fully known in all details, particularly the little anecdotes that would naturally grow in the telling. But that just means that “so why did they write down THIS and in THIS WAY?” becomes its own interesting question.

Everyone who comes at this history seems to say “Chen Shou was biased in this and that way and what the truth must actually be is this, which coincidentally is my bias” so I might as well do that too.

So here’s the incident in question in the original Chinese in the Sanguozhi:

寧厨下兒曾有過，走投呂蒙。蒙恐寧殺之，故不即還。後寧齎禮禮蒙母，臨當與升堂，乃出厨下兒還寧。寧許蒙不殺。斯須還船，縛置桑樹，自挽弓射殺之。畢，勑船人更增舸纜，解衣卧船中。蒙大怒，擊鼓會兵，欲就船攻寧。寧聞之，故卧不起。蒙母徒跣出諫蒙曰：「至尊待汝如骨肉，屬汝以大事，何有以私怒而欲攻殺甘寧？寧死之日，縱至尊不問，汝是爲臣下非法。」蒙素至孝，聞母言，即豁然意釋，自至寧舩，笑呼之曰：「興霸，老母待卿食，急上！」寧涕泣歔欷曰：「負卿。」與蒙俱還見母，歡宴竟日。

I took only two semesters of classical Chinese but I never like anybody else’s translation of classical Chinese anyway so here goes (I also consulted a modern Chinese gloss). I am bolding stuff I am going to talk about.

[Gan] Ning’s kitchen boy [more on this in a minute] committed a fault, and ran to throw himself on Lü Meng’s mercy. [Lü] Meng was afraid [Gan] Ning would kill him, therefore he would not return him. Later [Gan] Ning brought many gifts to [Lü] Meng’s mother, going up to the house in person, so that the kitchen boy would be returned to [Gan] Ning. [Gan] Ning promised [Lü] Meng that he wouldn’t kill him. On the way back to the boat, [Gan Ning] tied [the servant] to a mulberry tree, and he himself drew the bow to shoot him dead. That accomplished, he ordered his boatmen to lengthen the mooring rope, and laid down in the boat with his clothes loosened. [Lü] Meng was enraged. He hit the drum to summon soldiers, and immediately went to the boat to attack [Gan] Ning. When [Gan] Ning heard it, he didn’t get up. [Lü] Meng’s mother ran out barefoot and scolded [Lü] Meng saying: “Our lord has treated you as his flesh and blood, giving you dominion over great things, so how can you kill Gan Ning out of your own personal anger? If [Gan] Ning dies today, even if our lord ignores it, you will have broken the law.” [Lü] Meng was always extremely filial. He listened to his mother’s words, and in a flash he comprehended their meaning. He went personally to [Gan] Ning’s boat, and called out to him laughing: “Xingba [Gan Ning’s style name, used between peers; here shows affection or comradery], my mom’s got food ready, hurry up!” [Gan] Ning shed tears, snorted, and sobbed, saying, “I let you down.” Then he went back together with [Lü] Meng to see his mother, and they feasted all day.

Okay so the first thing is this critical phrase 厨下兒 which has been glossed into some English translations as “kitchen boy” and similar and which English speakers have then looked at and then gone “oh my God Gan Ning killed a child, a literal child, a tiny baby boy”. Ok, Hold on. Please.

So modern Chinese gloss I consulted translates this as “廚房的僕人” which just means “kitchen servant”. Yes “兒“ means child but it has so many other meanings especially in a compound like this; and this “child” is not specifically the “under a certain age” form of child.

Moreover, even in English, when we talk about English phrases like “kitchen boy” or (more prominently) “cabin boy” we are not talking about a five year old or even necessarily a ten year old. A 13-16 year old could easily be covered under that phrase in English. So please understand how a Chinese phrase like this could also cover such an age range, and remember also, that in this era, Ling Tong was on the front lines of the battlefield at age ~15 with his father when he died. So the idea of when a kid is fair game to be killed as an enemy is not our own.

So I’m even willing to go with the phrase “kitchen boy” because I feel the original conveys the sense of a minor servant. I’m certainly not going to rule out that the servant was, by modern standards, a child. Gan Ning is doing something really bad here. He knows himself it’s bad, and that’s where it gets the most interesting.

The second point I want to bring up is what it put across in the phrases “On the way back to the boat,” “he hit the drum”, and “ran out barefoot”, which is everything happens so fast. Gan Ning doesn’t even wait to get the servant home; instead, he kills him between Lü Meng’s house and his boat (which presumably was how he traveled to visit Lü Meng). And he does it by tying him to a tree! Not exactly subtle! And then he goes to his boat and just starts chillaxing! When he tells his sailors to lengthen the mooring rope, he’s doing the opposite of trying to run away. If you wanted to get away quickly, you would untie the mooring rope, or at least have it ready to untie fast. But Gan Ning deliberately makes it difficult to escape. And then the story mentions that Gan Ning loosens his clothing, or could even be interpreted as undressing, and that he lies down. Again, is that what you do when you expect to want to get away?

And then we’re back to everything happening so fast: Lü Meng, it seems finds out that the servant is dead very quickly, immediately hits a drum to summon soldiers and just runs out. And when Gan Ning hears this, he doesn’t get up. Now some people interpret this as cowardly, that Gan Ning was hiding from Lü Meng in not getting up to meet him. But if Lü Meng’s mother hadn’t caught him in time, would Lü Meng not have known where he was? No, Lü Meng knew exactly where he was. His boat was still tied to the dock by the mooring rope, and all of Gan Ning’s sailors, remember, would strictly speaking have been under Lü Meng too.

So then Lü Meng gets scolded by his mommy and realizes that he has to let Gan Ning off the hook. And he goes and the way he speaks to Gan Ning, in the original, is so casual and affectionate, which is why I translated it as “my mom’s got food ready”. Now within Chinese culture, as in many cultures, this invitation to food is in itself a mark of affection.

And then we come to the most interesting part of all: the original uses four characters to describe Gan Ning’s crying. Now, Chinese is terse, and classical Chinese is ULTRA terse. These people are not using any more characters than they have to. Yet Chen Shou spend four whole characters to describe that Gan Ning was not only “shedding tears” but “snorting” and “sobbing”. Holy shit. Believe me, if you read a lot of classical Chinese, this rings like a klaxon. The person writing this down thought this was important.

Gan Ning’s motivations throughout all of this are just so opaque. Impulsivity? But it involved a certain amount of planning. Did he want to be punished? Did he have even a death wish? Why was he so fixated on this escaped servant? (The silence of the original text as to what the servant did wrong exacerbates this. It could be almost anything.) Why did he, in some ways, play it so coolly and so arrogantly (the tying to a tree, the lying down half-dressed on a drifting boat), but then suddenly flip to abject, sobbing apology? Was the latter apology as much of a lie as his original promise not to kill the servant was? Or was Gan Ning truly stricken with remorse?

And what do we learn from the story? Utility to the state as a way to escape consequences? Crime and punishment are difficult to separate from personal considerations of revenge and anger? Efficacy of shame based on personal connection over physical attack? Chinese mothers are always right? (It’s that last one, isn’t it.)

So that’s why I had to write my own version. And yes, it’s a version that, while not condoning Gan Ning’s many horrible actions, does portray him as a person sympathetically.

#gan ning #chinese history #pirates #chinese pirates #sanguozhi #my translation #classical chinese #historical revisionism #romance of the three kingdoms #three kingdoms #dynasty warriors #my fanfic

[aft0nr0b0ticsllc]

Character Chart Character’s full name: William David Afton Reason or meaning of name: Resolute protector; will. Character’s nickname: Will, Springtrap Reason for nickname: Short for William, impaled and trapped by springlocks. Birth date: 10th of May, 1953

Physical appearance Age: 66 How old does he/she appear: Corpse-like. Weight: Heavyset in life, shriveled now, around 600 lbs. in suit. Height: 6′6″ in life, 6′0″ now, 7′6″ in suit. Body build: Sturdy muscle-fat in life, emaciated now, bulky in suit. Shape of face: Rounded, strong jaw. Eye color: Silver in life, purple glow in eye sockets now, silver-white in suit. Glasses or contacts: Reading glasses in life. Skin tone: Sickly, yellowish-pale in life, dusky bruise-purple now, faded green-yellow in suit. Distinguishing marks: Full-body scars in complex patterns from springlocks. Tears and stains in suit.  Predominant features: Striking eyes and salt-and-pepper hair in life. Now... well he’s stuffed into a decaying bunny robot. Hair color: Brown with silver sides in life. None now. Type of hair: Thick with widow’s peaks in life, wavy, well groomed. None now. Hairstyle: Medium length, brushed back in life. Voice: It will melt your pants right off. Rich, deep and proper. Dry, gravely tone post-death. Overall attractiveness: Isn’t that entirely subjective? Dadly, but sharp-featured in life. Might make you think “Come on, you’re the devil aren’t you”. Super dead now. Physical disabilities: Multiple chronic illnesses, both physical and psychological in life. Remnant dependence in death. Usual fashion of dress: Business professional to business casual in life. Springlock suit now. Favorite outfit: Black button up, purple vest, black or purple slacks on life. Jewelry or accessories: Ties, simple rings in life. Not many now, unless you count various upgrades like stainless steel retractable claws. Personality Good personality traits: Intelligent, curious, dedicated. Bad personality traits: Unsympathetic, selfish, obsessive. Mood character is most often in: Feral scientist mood? Sense of humor: Not immediately apparent, but more present than it seems. Both dark and childish. Character’s greatest joy in life: The joy of creation. Character’s greatest fear: Absolute, true death. Why?: Thanatophobia? He can’t imagine not existing or able to ensure that he is remembered. What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?: I’d say that already happened and it was either the bite of ‘83 or when he was springlocked and sealed away. Character is most at ease when: Fueled up on remnant and in the presence of family and/or loved ones. Most ill at ease when: Low on remnant and/or restrained/sealed somewhere. Enraged when: Exposed to willful ignorance. Depressed or sad when: Losing/rejected by family or loved ones. Priorities: Staying alive forever, keeping family and loved ones alive forever, by any means necessary, up to and including murder/human experimentation. Life philosophy: “There isn’t a way out anymore. All there is is family.” If granted one wish, it would be: Absolutely assurance that he and his family/loved ones will live happily forever. Why?:  Thanatophobia? Character’s soft spot: Anyone he considers family, be they biologically related, close by relationship alone, or simply former victims who haven’t turned against him. Is this soft spot obvious to others?: I’d argue that it SHOULD be, but his status as a murderer causes it to be easily glazed over. Greatest strength: Absolute refusal to die. “I always come back.” Greatest vulnerability or weakness: H U B R I S. Biggest regret: Not preventing the accidents that killed his children. Minor regret: Killing Henry’s daughter Charlie. Biggest accomplishment: Immortality. Minor accomplishment: Improved his pizza recipe, it’s really good now. Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: Lacks the self awareness to be embarrassed, I think. Even failures were in the name of progress. Why?: Because science, duh. Character’s darkest secret: Well, he’s a child murderer. Does anyone else know?: God yeah. Goals Drives and motivations: Obtaining and maintaining immortality, and furthering science in general. Immediate goals: Stay alive! Long term goals: Stay alive! How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Stealing the life force of others! How other characters will be affected: They’ll probably die, I imagine. :3c Past Hometown: Cambridge, England Type of childhood: Troubled, raised mostly by a single mother. Pets: Uh-oh. Oh no. First memory: Finding his father’s drowned body. Most important childhood memory: Oof probably that same one. Why: It sure did mess him up. Childhood hero: None really, but aspired to outdo many influential scientists. Dream job: Government Scientist Education: Masters in Robotics Religion: Catholic upbringing. Finances: Middle-class. Present Current location: Vague, mostly in his underground bunker beneath his place of business. Currently living with: Circus Baby and several other “family” members. Pets: Nothing stays alive around him for long. Religion: Agnostic Occupation: Roboticist and arcade/pizzeria owner. Finances: Upper-class (Criminal) Family Mother: Name TBD. Deceased. Relationship with her: She died with his resentment. No sign of her since. Father: Warren Afton. Deceased? Old Man Consequences. Relationship with him: “Leave the demon to his demons.” OMC is a detached spirit, who both resents and pities what William has become. He is angry, but also blames himself to a degree, believing that his suicide worsened his already troubled son’s condition. Siblings: N/A Relationship with them: N/A Spouse: Deceased. Relationship with him/her: Killed herself upon uncovering William’s secret. Children: Three, dead and reanimated in various ways. Relationship with them: Good, strained, ??? Other important family members: Considers all of his “loyal” possessed animatronics some manner of family. Particularly close with Colton Candy. Favorites Color: Pink! Also likes purple (esp. on himself), sunshine yellow and spring green. Least favorite color: He doesn’t really dislike any color, but is a little put off by over-saturation. Music: Indie, mostly. Has developed a taste for Industrial as well.  Food: Can’t eat. Was very fond of junk food and cakes in life. Literature: Mostly educational non-fiction. Form of entertainment: Loves cartoons. Expressions: Limited. Can’t move his corpse-face much and his suit-face is very stiff. Almost always looked tired and frustrated in life. Mode of transportation: Doesn’t fit in most vehicles. Is attempting to build his own. Drove a relatively nice four-door in life. (Irresponsibly) Most prized possession: Remnant extractor, hallucination-inducing audio mind control technology, his collection of uncanny carnival memorabilia. Habits Hobbies: Arcade games, cooking, toy making, clowning. Plays a musical instrument? Guitar. Plays a sport? Nope. How he/she would spend a rainy day: Slaughtering children in the basement I guess. Spending habits: Spends mostly on investments, pretty good at making a profit. Smokes: Enjoyed a good cigar now and then in life. Drinks: Yes, mostly hard liquor and occasionally too much. Mostly in life, but occasionally after death if he can find something that works. Other drugs: Only as prescribed in life. Addicted to remnant now, which might count. What does he/she do too much of? Working, killing people. What does he/she do too little of? Bonding with others, seeing medical professionals. Extremely skilled at: Robotics, pizza, acting, manipulation, murder, torture. Extremely unskilled at: Forming genuine and healthy connections to other people. Nervous tics: Jaw-clenching, foot-tapping, occasional head jerks. Usual body posture: Upright and perhaps too still, even borderline robotic. (Literally robotic after death.) In life he found this difficult and even painful to maintain, but did it anyway. Mannerisms: Professional and charismatic, somewhat emotionally withdrawn but not unfriendly in life. Downright ominous after death, fluctuating between too-serious and too-silly unpredictably, but always a little bit threatening. Peculiarities: “Nothing behind the eyes”. Most of his behavior comes off as “acting”. Good “acting”, but it’s all just a tiny bit off. Traits Optimist or pessimist?: Pessimist-leaning. Introvert or extrovert?: Reads as an extrovert, is actually an introvert. Daredevil or cautious?: Typically cautious with chaotic outbursts of daredevil. Logical or emotional?: Typically logical with chaotic outbursts of emotional, usually selfish. Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat?: Mostly methodical and neat, but finds the occasionally mess theraputic. Prefers working or relaxing?: Would love to relax, but typically cannot without over-working due to stress and trauma. Confident or unsure of himself/herself?: Mostly confident. Uncertainty slips in now and then, and he combats it with over-compensation. Animal lover?: Unfortunately, not really. He doesn’t dislike animals, but has difficult seeing them as individuals and feeling empathy or sympathy enough to connect with them, just as with humans. Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: Typically sees himself as an accomplished and brilliant scientist and/or a superior, ascended being. Occasional bouts of self loathing as a result of his failed attempts at connecting to other people. One word the character would use to describe self: Curious One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: “I’m something of an acquired taste, not suitable for most audiences, who lack the insight to understand what it is that I’ve done here and why. I’ve made great sacrifices for things so grand that most men can’t even fathom it - the bigger picture. I truly have made fantasy and fun come to life - perhaps in a nightmarish fashion, but I’ve embraced that.” What does the character consider his/her best personality trait?: His drive or intellect. What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait?: His clinical sociopathy. What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic?: He was fairly neutral to resentful to most of it in life. His physical body caused him a lot of pain and difficulties. What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic?: Being dead is kind of a turn off for most people so probably that. In life, his generally ill appearance. How does the character think others perceive him/her: A monster, and not in the nice way. He’d like more respect and sympathy than he gets. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: He’d like to be able to love and to feel loved more consistently and deeply than he’s capable of. Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: Mostly stupid, ignorant, self-important, tiny-minded fools. Surprisingly open to having this opinion changed, and often very quickly comes to love and admire those who are willing to put in the effort to earn his affection. Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others?: Usually yes. Person character most hates: Surprisingly, he doesn’t really hate anyone. Best friend(s): Henry, Kai, Blu, Dings, WD, Draggy Love interest(s): All of the above in different ways. Person character goes to for advice: Henry Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Circus Baby, Golden Freddy Person character feels shy or awkward around: Henry Person character openly admires: Henry Person character secretly admires: Officer Leah Mack Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Henry After story starts: Henry

#dash memes #about #this is a good long one but it's good to have this information somewhere #because i forget some of it sometimes

[betweensceneswriter]

Island Hopper-Chapter 25: Honeymoon Sweet

Previously on Island Hopper:  Chapter 24: Stag Night Seth wants to give Jamie a stag night, and Joe and John have a bachelorette night with Claire.

The Sheraton was amazing, the lobby high-ceilinged and grand, with a chandelier in the entrance and checkerboard black and white marble flooring.  Even in our fancy club wear I felt underdressed, and particularly foolish when the valet took the keys to my mom’s rusty Honda with a slight wrinkle to his nose and curl to his lip.

“John and Joe had my mom pack a bag for us,” I whispered to Jamie, cringing slightly as I brought the small backpack out of the car before the valet left us at the entrance.  “I’m kind of dreading looking in it to see what she thought we would want.”

He grinned and shook his head, turning to open the entrance door for me.

“They canna truly have paid for us to stay here, Ri-pālle,” he said then, gazing with wide eyes at the spacious lobby. I felt nearly as awestruck as he appeared.  I’d stayed in a few nice resorts through the years, but never anything as glamorous as this. Finally he shook off his awe and squared his shoulders, looking down at me with a sly smile.

“Come along, woman,” he said, taking me firmly by the hand and leading me to the check-in desk.

“Reservation for Fraser,” he said confidently to the suited concierge behind the desk, who, after tapping on his keyboard and asking twice how we spelled our last name, found the reservation.

“A gift, it seems,” the clerk said.  “With an open tab for room service if desired.”

Jamie narrowed his eyes and shook his head slightly—not so much that the suited gentleman noticed, but enough that I did.  I squeezed his hand.  This was quite decadent enough without taking undue advantage of John and Joe’s generosity.

The concierge signaled for a bellhop to come assist us, and after an awkward moment as the young man held out his hands before I surrendered the backpack, the two of us followed him from the lobby into a towering ten-story atrium. The hotel rooms opened out to balconies overlooking a geometric fountain surrounded by stately palm trees in pots.  I tried to minimize my astonishment, gripping Jamie’s hand and trying to direct his gaze toward the stunning surroundings as we entered the elevator and waited in awkward silence as it climbed to the seventh floor, until the bellhop had opened our door and Jamie had scrabbled through his wallet for a wrinkled five-dollar bill, after which we entered the room and closed the door.

“So, this is what you would have preferred for our actual honeymoon?” Jamie asked, taking in the smooth white bed linens, the glossy furniture, the gentle glow of bedside lamps.  He ran his fingers through his hair, then stepped hesitantly into the center of the room and looked back at me, eyebrows raised.

“It is pretty decadent,” I agreed.  “But our wedding night and honeymoon were much more memorable.  Anyone could have their wedding night in a hotel…”

“Aye,” Jamie agreed, moving over to the bed and untying his deck shoes, wiggling his toes gratefully once he had shoes and socks off. I kicked off my spangly heels, padding over to the sliding glass door that led out to a balcony.  I opened the door and went out, stunned for a moment by the lights of the island and the view of the infinity pool eight stories down, lit up for nighttime swimming.  It was surreal, to say the least.  Jamie didn’t follow me, so I went back into the room to find him still sitting on the bed.

He was looking at me wistfully.  “I do love your family, truly, Ri-pālle,” he said.  “And this room is amazing… But somehow I canna wait until it is just you and I in our little apartment.”

“With the geckos and mosquitos?” I asked teasingly, shutting the door behind me.

“Them I could do wi’out,” he smiled, winking at me.

“I know what you mean, though,” I said, walking up to him and stepping between his knees, resting my arms on his shoulders.  “Until now it's kind of been  just the two of us.”

“Wi’ a little Rupert and Angus thrown in,” Jamie added, linking his hands behind my back and smiling up at me as he pulled me toward him.

“But not too much,” I mused, imagining our friends noisily tromping into our apartment.  

Our apartment.  I felt a pang in my stomach and as I realized what I was feeling, pushed away from Jamie and exclaimed in surprise, “Babe… I think I’m homesick!”

His look of discomfort softened, and I leaned forward to kiss him gently.

“I am as well, mo chridhe,” he whispered, drawing me down onto his lap.  “Sit wi’ me for a bit, and I ken both of us will soon feel better.”

He drew my head to his shoulder, tucking it under his chin, wrapping his arms thoroughly around me.  I breathed deeply and melted into him, slipping my shoulder under his arm, curling my body against his.  I found myself humming contentedly and closed my eyes with a sigh.

“Dammit, Jamie,” I murmured. “I was yours from that very first day you held me in your arms.”

In response, he chuckled and tightened his arms around me.  I felt the soft pressure of a kiss on my forehead.

“You looked alluring tonight.” He spoke slowly, his deep voice rumbling under my ear.  “Dancing in your sparkly top and sandals,” he mused as his hand traced over the spaghetti straps of the tank and drifted down my back. “Wearing these jeans, tight as a second skin,” he added, the firm warmth of his palm moving lower until he stopped with it gripping the curve of my backside.

I’d wanted him earlier, but the extravagance of the hotel had stunned me out of it.  Now I felt the glow begin again, warmth creeping from my abdomen outwards.

“I’m taking these foolish wee things off you,” he said, nudging me off his knee and into a standing position in front of him again. He reached for the button of my jeans, his forehead wrinkling in concentration as he undid it, a slow smile creeping over his face as he looked up at me and gripped the zipper.

There was something disconcerting about being undressed.  My heart rate increased and I flushed as I watched him pull the zipper downwards and then slip his hands inside my jeans to spread the tight waistband and push it down over my hips.

He took his time drawing the jeans down to the floor, his hands tracing their way down my thighs.  “You did indeed shave today,” he said. “Your skin is as soft as... a cat’s fur.”

“A cat?” I asked.  “Did you have a cat growing up?”

“Aye, but we arna talking about Bòidheach right now,” Jamie said, returning to a sitting position after holding the jeans down as I stepped out of them.  He ran his hands back up my legs, and the gentle touch stirred me so thoroughly I closed my eyes in response.

“Now these are even more foolish,” he murmured, his hands tracing over the sides of my lacy panties. “But I’ll leave them on you a wee bit longer.”

“Will you?” I asked, feeling breathless.

“This, now,” he mused, and I could feel his hands at my waist, slipping slowly under the tank top.  “The way you moved in it! A Dhia, I felt as if every eye in the place was on ye.”

I backed away from him playfully, raising my arms up as if still at the club, dance moves somewhere between club Claire and dancing-with-the-Marshallese-kiddos Claire. I turned around, facing away from him, still swiveling my hips.

“Come here,” Jamie groaned.  “Before ye kill me… Itōk, Ri-pālle.”

He reached his hand out to me and once again swept me into his lap as I approached him.

“I’m curious, Claire.  Do ye like it here?” Jamie asked as I rested in his arms.  

“I love my family,” I said.  “But it’s so busy and chaotic.”

“I agree,” he responded.  “It is so loud.  So commercialized.  It seems as if it is all about money and what ye have and drive.  What you buy.  What you accomplish.”

“Arno is such a simple place,” I said.  “I’d forgotten the constant barrage of advertising and noise.  The distraction of my silly cell phone dinging all the time.”

I could feel him nodding his head as he spoke gravely, “I havena seen the stars since I got here.  Havena just sat alone in the silence.  Haven't quietly watched the sun rise on the beach.  I haven't read.  And other than lighting the candles at midnight mass,” he confessed soberly, ”I havena prayed.”

I sighed.  “I feel like we’ve lost something being here.  Because I have felt jealous, petty, bitter, possessive--about you, I mean.  I’ve seen all these gorgeous young girls, and unwittingly I've been calling myself ugly, old, frizzy...” At this, Jamie frowned and shook his head.  

“Ye shouldna speak so to yerself,” he scolded.  “I would never say such things.  To me, you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”  

“You’re sweet,” I said.  “But here there is just too much to compare myself to.  Magazine covers in the grocery store, billboards, petite Asians and tanned- skinned Chamorrans.  I feel like I'm clinging to you just to try to feel valuable.  This isn't working, and I’m so glad we will be going home soon.”

“Do you imagine we will ever be able to return to civilization?” Jamie asked earnestly. “I'm serious.  Will we ever be able to tolerate the noise and chaos? The commercialism?”

“Sadly,” I said, “I think we could.  I think if we move to the states or Scotland, we will easily forget simplicity.  But for now, babe, there are far better things for us to focus on.”

“Ayet,” Jamie responded, with such enthusiasm that I sat up and looked at his face. “Such as to finally remove this top!” His smile was blinding, and the crinkle of affection at the corner of his eyes endearing. His arms around me tightened.

I closed my eyes as his lips met mine. Warm, strong hands on my body claimed familiar territory, and I felt firm flesh under my own hands, his skin smooth over the gentle ripple of muscles and occasional jut of bone. I let out a little sigh.

I could feel his lips pull back in a smile against mine, and then his warm breath and insistent lips on my neck and collar bone.

“Will ye have me, then?” he asked, his hand hesitating just under the hem of my tank top.

I pulled away from him for a second, meeting his eyes. “Seriously, Jamie…?”

“I’m no’ confused,” he explained.  “I just want to hear it from your lips.”

“I love you, babe,” I said, punctuating the phrase with kisses. “And yes, of course I want you.  Badly!”

“Good,” he said with a satisfied smile. “I believe I'll be able to accommodate ye.”

Sometime later the two of us were tousle-haired and sweaty in our gorgeous suite overlooking the moon-lit ocean. Jamie was stretched out on the bed looking satisfied and I felt flushed and a little stunned as well.

I looked at Jamie, shaking my head. “That girl at the club wanted you.  And she wasn’t the only one.”

“What are you talking about?” Jamie asked skeptically.

“Seth’s friends were salivating all over you on Cocos Island. When I watch you walk around, you don’t know how many pairs of eyes are following you, how many girls stand up straighter, suck in their stomachs and stick out their chests when you walk by.”

Jamie shook his head sheepishly as if he didn’t believe me at all.

“When he visited, there was one thing that Frank said that did strike fear in my heart,” I said, taking a deep breath and continuing hesitantly.  “I don’t remember his exact words, but what he said was that if you were this young and this physical, that you would get bored of sex with me, or feel like I was too old for you.”

“Oh, lass,” said Jamie empathetically. He reached out for my hand, pulling me into the bed to rest in his arms.

“Was Frank right?” I asked quietly.  “How can I know you’ll always love me? That I’ll be enough for you?”

Jamie looked at me for a moment, brows furrowed. Finally he spoke.  “Claire, what you are to me is more than sex.  Which I do love, don’t mistake me.  I love it now, and I’ll love it if you ever get lukkuun pregnant and bloated.  I’ll love it if you get soft and round like a good Majel mama and even if you get skinny—though, ye shouldna ever get too skinny,” he commented, his hands straying down to my hips. I giggled and shook my head, but  kept looking at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I hope we make our kids groan and plug their ears with the noises we make when they’re teenagers,” Jamie grinned.  “And I hope I’m still taking you to bed when we’re old and gray in our flat in the retirement village.”

By then I was laughing through tears, and Jamie handed me tissues from the dispenser on the bedside table, then took me in his arms again. “And I’ll be creeping down the hall in the carehome even when I’m half senile, climbing into your bed because in your arms I can remember.”

“Are you serious?” I asked him.  “But that’s still just sex.”

“That’s not all,” Jamie continued.  “When I lost my ma and Willie, and then my da, when I left Scotland and Murtagh and Jenny and Ian, I lost my family.  My home.  My sense of belonging.  And ye ken Dougal.  He isna given to much affection.”

“You’re right,” I responded, nodding.  “He’s not much of a hugger.”

“I traveled through school, and the first taste of being loved again was John,” Jamie murmured.  “I couldna be what he wanted, but he still cared for me even after he knew that.”

I snuggled closer to him.

“And my students… they fill me.  Rupert and Angus, the numpties, they’ve been friends to me. But then you arrived.  And ye took care of me, Ri-pālle.  You healed me, looked after me, fed me, enjoyed my company, hugged me.”

I squeezed him and closed my eyes.

“Ye felt comfortable, Claire, like family, even though I was also lusting after ye.  You called me ‘mo chridhe’ by accident once, and my heart ached at the words.  I hadna been called that in a long time.”

“I remember that,” I whispered back.  “I remember the look on your face.”

“And then you wanted me too.  You wanted to save me from being sent back home.  But you wanted me.  My company, my friendship, my body, my love. And when I met your parents, when your da called me ‘son,’ my heart felt like it was going to explode. I… I didna just marry you for your body, Claire. I married you for your company. I married you for your soul. I married you so you could always be my family.”

I pulled him down to me for a kiss.

“It doesna matter where we live, who we become.” Jamie said seriously, looking into my eyes. “Because Claire, you are my family.”

He placed his hand on my breast, over my heart.   “And this right here?” He said. “This, Ri-pālle, this is home.”

Next Up: Chapter 26: Father, Forgive Me... Jamie’s got a lot of built up bitterness toward his father.

#I split & lengthened chapter 24 #More love scenes #Jamie x Claire #on Guam #Christmas gift #Outlander fan fic #outlander aesthetic #Marshall Islands #betweensceneswriter #island hopper #Chapter 25

[badchoosey]

Hero, Vol.1 - Chapter One: The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

You soar over the ruins of Northbridge and touch down amidst the wreckage of shattered skyscrapers.

Alert: Where are you?! Come and face me!

A figure rises out of the smoke and fire, wreathed in chaotic energy.

Voice: I’m not hiding. You’re the one who’s hiding. You’ve been hiding all your life.

Alert: Time to shut you up!

Voice: How can you possibly hope to defeat me when you don’t even understand what you truly are? You haven’t even begun to comprehend the power within you.

Alert: Maybe so… but I know enough to finish this.

Voice: No, this is not the end… soon you’ll realize that this is only the beginning!

Six months earlier…

Your sleepy eyes focus on the time, after shutting your buzzing alarm off.

Alert: I’m late! I am very, very late!

You leap out of bed and throw open your closet doors.

Alert: This could be the biggest day of my career… I need to look great…

You rummage around in your closet and settle on a basic blue number.

Alert: That’ll do, I guess…

Dressed for work, you leave your apartment and sprint to the train station.

Alert: C’mon… don’t leave without me!

Just as you reach the platform, the train doors close shut--

Alert: No! No! Wait!

You watch helplessly as the train barrels away from the station, leaving you behind.

Alert: Of all the days to be late to work, why did it have to be today?

After waiting around for the next train, you finally arrive at Prescott Industries. The tall, glass skyscraper gleams brightly in the morning sun. As you walk toward the building, you hear someone call your name. You turn around to see Poppy Patel hurrying toward you with two iced lattes.

Poppy: Alert! Wait up!

Alert: Poppy? What are you doing here?

Poppy: Bringing you an iced latte to kickstart your big day, of course! You’re gonna need it now that you’re in charge of planning the biggest social event of the season! Speaking of which… you didn’t happen to snag your favorite person in the whole world an invite, did you? You said last week that you would try to get me in to the big gala at Prescott Industries tonight.

Alert: So, this latte comes with a few strings attached, huh?

Poppy: No! Well, maybe a little bit… but you will try to get me in, won’t you? All the best and brightest and most fashionable people in Northbridge will be there. When Prescott Industries unveils a new technology, that’s major.

Alert: Not just major. Silas Prescott said his new invention would ‘change the world as we know it’...

Poppy: And… what is it?

Alert: No clue. I work for Grayson Prescott, not his father, remember? I’m dying to know what the invention is just like everybody else.

Poppy: Speaking of Grayson, the handsome, charming heir apparent… You could ask him to invite me, couldn’t you? I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to his favorite executive assistant! If I can get the inside scoop on the gala, I’ll be a shoo-in for the promotion to Motif’s Senior Fashion Editor. I neeeeed this, Alert.

Alert: I know, I know, Poppy. This is a big opportunity for me, too.

Poppy: Then get in there, do the best job you possibly can with the gala preparations, and Grayson will be so impressed he won’t say no to you! I promise I’ll find some way to pay you back.

Alert: You’re so gonna owe me. Like we’re not just talking one favor here. I’m thinking three at least, maybe as many as five.

Poppy: Ugh, why do I feel like I’m making a deal with the devil?

Alert: Hey, those are the terms. Take it or leave it!

Poppy: All right, all right… I hereby sign my soul over. Just… don’t forget to ask him, okay?

Alert: I promise I won’t. Now, I really should get to work. I’m late enough as it is… and so are you!

Poppy: Oh, don’t be silly. Being fashionably late is all part of the job!

You push through the glass doors and into the lobby of Prescott Industries, where Grayson Prescott confidently directs the gala preparations.

Grayson: Bring those tables through here. We’ll want to give our guests the best possible view at tonight’s unveiling…

Grayson turns and notices you enter.

Grayson: Alert, there you are! Just in the nick of time…

Alert: Sorry I’m late… somehow I managed to miss my train again.

Grayson: It’s all right. You’re here now.

Alert: I am. So, how are the gala preparations going, Mr. Prescott?

Grayson: Please, Alert, Mr. Prescott is my father. Call me Grayson. We did go to school together, after all.

Alert: All right, Grayson. Actually, I was hoping I could ask you something--

Just then, Marjorie Miles, Director of Operations, marches over, her eyes narrowed behind her thick-framed glasses.

Marjorie Miles: Hmph. About time you showed up, Alert.

Alert: It’s only a quarter past--

Marjorie Miles: Exactly. A quarter past the time you were supposed to be here. In other words, late. As for you, Grayson, your father wants a word. It sounded urgent.

Grayson: Thanks for letting me know. Alert, can you handle this on your own?

Alert: Uh… I think so?

Marjorie Miles: Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t screw anything up too badly.

Grayson: I’m sure she won’t. See you later, Alert.

Alert: Good luck!

At Grayson heads for the elevators, Marjorie turns to look at you, her expression impatient.

Marjorie Miles: Tonight could be the most important night in this company’s history. Do you understand what that means, Alert? It means that it’s also the most important night of your otherwise unremarkable life. So, are you finally ready to do your job and help me?

Alert: Why don’t you try asking nicely?

Marjorie Miles: Okay, Alert… your choice. Do you want to tell Grayson that things here are going splendidly…. Or do you want to tell him your bullheaded unwillingness to assist me killed the mayor?

Alert: I feel like this escalated quickly…

Marjorie Miles: Two words: shell fish--

Alert: Technically, that’s one word, not--

Marjorie Miles: Shellfish allergy. The Mayor’s office waited until this morning to let me know that the Mayor is allergic to shellfish. In other words, we can’t serve the thirty pounds of ceviche de camaron we already paid for!

Alert: Okay, that’s a real problem. What can I do to help?

Marjorie Miles: I need you to call around and find something… not embarrassing to serve for an appetizer at the gala tonight. Do you think you can stop swiping or Pictalking or whatever you millenials do long enough to accomplish one task?

Alert: … Yes, I can do that.

You pull your laptop from your bag and start searching for caterers…

Fifteen minutes later…

Marjorie Miles: Well?

Alert: Let’s order tacos.

Marjorie Miles: Tacos?

Alert: It’ll be fun! We can hire a taco truck and let everyone build their own!

Marjorie Miles: Hmm… I suppose it would be memorable. Since you managed to produce a halfway-decent idea for the appetizer, what do you think we should do with all this ceviche?

Alert: I think we should dump it. Northbridge Bay probably has worse things in it. Besides it’s sort of like we’re putting it back where it came from?

Marjorie Miles: I’m not sure I follow your logic there, but… sure. If we can’t serve it, we may as well get rid of it. I’ll get some of our drivers on that ASAP. Congratulations on not screwing this up, Alert. Keep it up, and you might even be considered semi-competent someday.

Alert: I can’t wait.

Marjorie Miles: I’ll continue handling things here. In the meantime, I need you to check in with Dax in Engineering and Santiago in Security. Report back to Grayson once you’ve confirmed they’re ready.

Alert: Okay, got it.

Marjorie Miles: Then why are you still standing here? Chop chop!

A few minutes later, you step into the Engineering Lab to find it seemingly empty.

Alert: … Hello? Dax? Anybody here?

At the far end of the room, a curtain hides an enormous something from view…

Alert: (That must be the new technology Prescott Industries is unveiling at the gala tonight!)

As you step deeper into the lab, the floor beneath your feet begins to tremble gently.

Alert: (It’s supposed to be a secret, but Dax probably wouldn’t mind if I took a peek. I think…)

As you step toward the curtain, the trembling in the floor ramps up in intensity.

Alert: (What the…?)

Just them Dax Darcisse slides out from beneath a nearby computer console, pushing his goggles up onto his forehead.

Dax: Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing, Alert?! You can’t just go touching things in here… for all you know, that could be highly radioactive!

Alert: Is it?!

You quickly retreat away from the curtain.

Dax: No, it’s not radioactive. But it could be, because… science! And besides, I’m still working the kinks out… I thought everything was fine, but somehow the XD917 crystalline array just activated all on its own.

Alert: Crystalline what-now…?

Dax: Um, did I say that? I meant ‘classified’. ‘Redacted’. ‘Under NDA’. ‘Bleep’!

Alert: Right. A secret. Anyway… Marjorie asked me to check on preparations for the unveiling tonight. Will you be ready?

Dax inspects the data visualizations streaming on a nearby console.

Dax: Huh, weird… things seem fine now… I’ve literally never seen that happen before. You’re not carrying any raw promethium around, are you?

Alert: Uh… not that I know of?

Dax: Yeah, didn’t think so. That is very, very strange. I’m going to run through the system diagnostics once more to be sure… but yeah. All systems green. As much as I understand it, anyway… only Silas knows what it’s supposed to do when the power’s turned on!

Alert: Wait, seriously?

Dax: Yep, I’m as stoked for the big reveal tonight as you are!

Alert: Okay…

You start toward the door and then turn back…

Alert: Actually, Dax, there’s one more thing…

Dax: Sure, what’s up?

Alert: I thought you might want to know there’s a chance that Poppy is coming to the gala tonight.

Dax: Oh, uh, really? Why would I want to know that?

Alert: You tell me. I was definitely getting a vibe when the three of us went out for drinks last week…

Dax: A vibe? What kind of vibe? From her or from me? I’m confused.

Alert: Yeah, I can see that.

Dax: I mean… she could never be interested in me like that… Could she?

Alert: Only one way to find out. Although I technically haven’t asked Grayson if I can invite her yet…

Dax: Well, just let me know, I guess… or don’t. Either way. Unrelated topic - should I wear anything special? What do you think about cologne? I mean, I don’t own any cologne. But I’ve got access to lots of chemicals. I could probably whip something up…

Alert: … What about the diagnostic?

Dax: Yes! Diagnostic! Top priority!

Alert: Exactly. See you later, Dax.

You head to the chief of security’s office, where Santiago Lupo eyes a row of security monitors. One has been tuned to the local news.

News: --string of brazen daylight robberies that have plagued the Northbridge jewelry district--

Santiago smiles as you walk over.

Santiago: Morning, Alert. You hear about all these armed robberies?

Alert: Sorry, I don’t really watch the news…

Santiago: Why not?

Alert: Too depressing. I don’t need that kind of stress in my life.

Santiago: Well, sure, but just because you’re not seeing it doesn’t mean it’s not happening…

Alert: Okay, then… why don’t you get me up to speed?

Santiago: Basically, this gang has been stealing diamonds all over the city, and the police are stumped.

Alert: That actually sounds pretty bad…

Santiago: Unfortunately, they’re hardly the worst this city has to offer. But don’t worry. I went over the security plans for tonight’s gala with Silas Prescott personally. The party’s gonna be great, but the security’ll be even better. You’d need an attack helicopter to punch you way through our defensive grid!

Alert: Isn’t that kind of… overkill?

Santiago: Hello no! No such thing in my book. Mayor Brady, District Attorney Katsaros… all the most important people in the city are going to be at Prescott Industries tonight. Nothing is going to happen on my watch!

Alert: I feel safer already.

After saying goodbye to Santiago, you take the elevator up to the second highest floor and step into Grayson Prescott’s office.

Grayson: Hey, Alert. Everything ready for tonight?

Alert: Yup. Everything’s taken care of.

Grayson: That’s good news… but I believe there was one more thing to discuss?

Alert: … There was?

Grayson: This morning, you wanted to ask me a question? What was it?

Alert: I… I have a friend who wants to come to the Gala tonight. She’s one of my best friends, and she’s a junior fashion editor at Motif. If we could put her on the guest list she’ll write something nice about the gala!

Grayson: I suspect my father’s announcement tonight will make for plenty of good publicity.

Alert: Oh, right…

Grayson: But there’s no need to sell me on her attending. She’s more than welcome to come.

Alert: Really?

Grayson: Really. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Now, am I mistaken, or is the junior editor you’re referring to Poppy Patel?

Alert: Yeah, that’s her!

Grayson: I remember you two were close in school. She’s more than welcome, but I have to say… I was devastated to see her article declaring that joggers were officially off-trend.

Alert: Oh. I’m sure they’d still work if you--

Grayson: I’m kidding, Alert.

Alert: Ahh. Gotcha.

Grayson: See you tonight?

Alert: Definitely.

That night, back at your apartment…

Poppy: EEEEEEEEE! I’m so excited! This is the swankiest social event of the entire year, and I actually get to go!

Alert: … Ahem.

Poppy: All thanks to my best friend, Alert, who I will definitely find some way to repay.

Alert: Better!

Poppy: I’ve been thinking about the gala for weeks, and I know exactly what I’m going to wear.

Poppy slips into the other room and emerges a few minutes later wearing a slinky dress.

Poppy: Ta-da! You don’t have to tell me I look fabulous, because I already know I do… Now, the important question. What are you going to wear?

Alert: Uh, I don’t know… I was thinking I’d just wear what I have on.

Poppy: … Alert, seriously? Listen, tonight’s going to be huge for you! If you want to move up in the world, you’ve got to look the part! Not to mention… you’ve been single for far too long, my friend. I’d say it’s high time we changed that!

Alert: Do you think there’d be anyone who’s my type there?

Poppy: Well, you never know, right? But you should at least dress up for my sake. You know… your best friend? Who helped you through so many hard times in college?

Alert: I seem to remember that the other way round… but okay, what do you suggest?

Poppy: I’m glad you asked.

Poppy digs through the clothes she brought over and pulls out a garment bag.

Poppy: I’ve been hanging onto this for a fashion shoot, but no one will notice if it goes missing for a night or two. Go ahead and try it on.

You step out of the room, change, and return a few minutes later.

Alert: Well, what do you think?

Poppy: Stunning. Simply stunning! Promise me you’ll wear that! … Or I guess you could just wear what you wore to work…

Alert: This gala is my work, Poppy. It might be all fun and games for you, but I’m on the clock.

Poppy: Well… still, I’m sure we can squeeze in a little fun. Are you ready to head out?

Alert: Ready.

You and Poppy arrive at the gala to find the Prescott Industries lobby awash in a sea of high-profile guests in gowns and tuxes. Uniformed waiters circulate with trays of appetizers and fluted glasses of sparkling champagne.

Poppy: I never thought I’d say this, but I’m feeling a little underdressed. This party is bougie as hell!

Alert: Tell me about it…

Dax: Hey, guys!

Poppy: Speaking of getting dressed up… nice to finally see you out of a labcoat, Dax.

Dax: It’s weird, right? I feel weird. I think I’m gonna go put it back--

Poppy: No, don’t! Seriously. You look good. And we already have one Prescott employee wearing their work clothes tonight…

Dax: Yeah, Alert, isn’t that the same outfit you were wearing earlier?

Alert: What is this, gang up on Alert day?

Dax: Sorry. I mean, you do look professional, so that’s something.

Poppy: And what about me?

Dax: You’re okay, I guess.

Poppy punches Dax in the arm.

Dax: Okay, okay, sorry! You look great.

Poppy: That’s better. C’mon, let’s go get some drinks. Next round’s on me!

Alert: But it’s an open bar…

Poppy: Details, details…

You and Dax trail behind Poppy on your way to the bar, hanging back just out of her earshot.

Alert: So… are you nervous?

Dax: Not at all. We’ve rigorously tested the, uh, device since this morning’s anomaly, and everything looks--

Alert: I meant Poppy, genius.

Dax: Oh, right. Do you really think she might be interested in me?

Alert: It’s too soon to tell.

Dax: Oh, yeah… that makes sense.

Alert: Don’t worry. These things take time, that’s all.

Dax: Right, totally.

The three of you cross the lobby, passing by District Attorney Meiko Katsaros and her son.

Meiko Katsaros: Kenji, I can’t believe this! You wait until now to tell me you’re dropping out of law school?

Kenji: Relax, Mom, I’ve got it all figured out. Can’t we just focus on enjoying the party?

Waitress: Excuse me, ma’am, sir. Here are you drinks.

Kenji: Finally! Bottoms up!

Meiko Katsaros: This conversation isn’t over, Kenji. Let me tip the waitress for these drinks, and we’ll-- That’s strange. I must’ve left my wallet at home.

Waitress: It’s quite all right, ma’am. No tip necessary.

As you reach the bar, Poppy taps your arm and points.

Poppy: Hey, Alert, look who it is…

At the far end of the bar, Grayson stands in a close circle with several businessmen and his father, Silas Prescott.

Silas Prescott: I gotta say, I’m glad you boys came to us with this opportunity. The Bayside neighborhood has been an unsightly blemish on our fair city for too long. It could use a little… redevelopment.

Grayson: Dad, I’m not so sure about this deal. Redeveloping Bayside would mean pricing long-term residents out of their homes. Where are those families supposed to go? The rent in this city is already at an all-time high.

Silas flashes an annoyed look at his son but quickly covers it with a laugh.

Silas Prescott: Gentlemen, you’ll have to forgive my son. He doesn’t quite have the killer instinct necessary to succeed in this business yet.

Grayson: Maybe I just don’t think life has to be a zero-sum game.

This time, Silas fails to cover his annoyance.

Silas Prescott: That’s what losers tell themselves. You think I got to where I am today by being soft?

Grayson: I… I think I need some air. Excuse me, gentleman.

Grayson takes his drink and heads upstairs toward the balcony, his father’s disapproving stare following his across the gala.

Dax: Wow. That was…

Poppy: Hard to watch. Yeah. Alert, it looks like Grayson’s in need of rescuing. Now’s your chance to be a hero!

Alert: It’s not my place.

Poppy: Well, then whose place is it? You’re his executive assistant!

Alert: I’m sure he’ll be okay. He deals with this sort of thing all the time.

You, Poppy, and Dax mill about the lobby for the next half hour, mingling with your Prescott Industries coworkers. Suddenly, a hush falls over the assembled guests as the music fades out…

Poppy: Ooh, is this the big announcement?

Alert: Shhh!

Everyone turns to watch as Silas Prescott descends the central staircase, holding the room’s attention without so much as a word.

Silas Prescott: Ladies and gentleman, it’s such an honor to see you all here tonight. Mayor Brady, District Attorney Katsaros… I hope you’re all enjoying my champagne.

A ripple of laughter passes through the crowd, and SIlas smiles indulgently.

Silas Prescott: But as many of you have probably guessed, I didn’t organize this little shindig just for the pleasure of your esteemed company. In fact… I have something incredible to show you. Something that will change the world as we know it.

The crowd chuckles pleasantly. Silas steps over to a large curtain on the far end of the room.

Silas Prescott: Please forgive my flair for the dramatic. I know the suspense must be unbearable, but I assure you… a discovery of this magnitude deserves and equally grand reveal.

The crowd goes quiet as Silas holds up an enormous pink crystal.

Silas Prescott: Twenty-five years ago, my… my late wife and I discovered this crystal on an archaeological expedition.

Poppy: … It’s beautiful!

Silas Prescott: Analysis revealed that this was no ordinary crystal. Its subatomic particles show a composition that defies quantum mechanics as we know it. So the brilliant scientists at Prescott Industries have spent the last twenty-five years writing new rules.

Alert: Dax, this is the secret project you were working on?

Dax: Just all the parts that required a handsome, young science genius.

Silas Prescott: This incredible discovery now powers a device we call… The Prism Gate.

Silas gestures and the curtain behind him raises… revealing a strange device with two curved pylons attached to a control panel.

Silas Prescott: The Prism Gate operates under its own power and provides access to a clean and inexhaustible energy source.

The crowd gasps.

Silas Prescott: You heard that right. Infinite, clean energy. An end to famine, to pollution, to inequality. Now… watch…

Silas places the crystal in a slot on the Prism Gate’s control panel, and the Prism Gare begins to resonate. A pink, otherworldly glow fills the entire lobby!

Silas Prescott: Ladies and gentleman… welcome to the future!

Just as the crowd erupts in applause, an explosion thunders from overhead! The overhead skylight bursts inward, showering the room with shards of glass!

Silas Prescott: What the hell? Security!

Santiago: Everyone, stay calm!

Four masked men carrying fully-automatic rifles rappel down into the lobby from the roof.

Criminal: Everyone on your knees. This is a robbery!

Lead Gunman: Nobody does anything stupid, nobody has to die! So pretty, pretty please… do something stupid!

Alert: Oh… Oh crap!

#hero #choices hero #choices #playchoices #bad choices

[varsityleatherbluejacket]

(Bus) Ride or Die

Pairing: Justin x Alex

Warnings: car crash mention, fluff, genitalia mention

Word count: 1283

Request: Could you please write the prompt "you're a senior for crying out loud, stop writing 'suck on deez nuts' on my window when we ride the bus" for justlex, it's my favorite prompt and I'd love to see how you'd write it

A/N: Thanks for requesting! I changed the quote slightly to make it work logically with the fic, but I hope you like it. I’m honored you trust me with your favorite prompt

Read below the cut or on ao3

You really don’t realize the things you take for granted until they’re taken away from you. Alex really didn’t fully grasp how much he relied on his car until the day he crashed it into a tree. He normally wasn’t a bad driver, but he had been known to be reckless at times and when it started pouring rain, he didn’t exactly slow down to accommodate the weather. He’d been having a bad day, and he really just wanted to get home.

He wished he could do that day over, but sadly, he couldn't. His parents were, of course, furious with him once they realized he was safe and no one was harmed. They were making him get a job to pay it off. He felt miserable, and now he didn’t even have his instant getaway for those nights when he just needed to drive away from his house for a while. He loved his family, but sometimes he couldn’t help but feel suffocated in those walls.

Being with Justin made it easier, but now he couldn’t even drive them places. Or drive to wherever Justin was. (Although, thankfully, Justin spent most of his time at Alex’s house nowadays.) He was accustomed to driving both of them to school, especially since now they were seniors, and most seniors avoided the bus at all costs. It was seen as much cooler when you drove yourself to school, and even if Alex didn’t really care about that part, he hated the bus. It was full of annoying teenagers who took up too much room with their backpacks and tossed garbage in the air for fun and honestly, once he left school, he really didn’t want to spend any more time with the student body at Liberty High. At this point, he’d spent enough time with them to last a lifetime.

It was just a terrible way to end the day. Normally he looked forward to driving him and Justin home or to Monet’s after school, but now, he didn’t have that nice part of his routine anymore. Justin, however, didn’t seem to affected by this change in routine. In fact, he seemed to embrace this throw in their daily schedules, and as soon as they got on the bus for the ride home, Justin grabbed his hand and led them right to the back of the bus, despite Alex’s protests.

“It’s been forever since I’ve rode the bus,” Justin commented with a certain excitement in his eyes. Justin always appreciated spontaneity; Alex, however, preferred structure and routine. His parents had always been very orderly, and he’d been raised on to-do lists and detailed itineraries. Justin’s life had always been a bit chaotic, and he did well under pressure. Justin knew how to adapt to change well. Alex did not.

Needless to say, Alex was taking the whole having to take the bus thing harder. He missed his car. Not because he was one of those guys who prided himself on the model or the engine or something like that, but because it was a mark of freedom and independence that he craved. It was practical; it gave him an escape. The bus did the opposite. Because now instead of being able to leave behind his fellow students once the school day ended, he had to take a bus ride with them. The situation was definitely not ideal by any means.

Normally, Alex loved Justin’s adaptability and optimism about change, but today, he was just really not in the mood. “Yeah,” he grumbled. “Me too.”

Justin nudged his shoulder. “Oh come on, Alex. It’s not so bad.”

Alex looked at him incredulously. “Yes, it is bad.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I hate the bus.”

Justin smiled, reaching over to pinch his cheeks. Alex grimaced, pushing his hands away. “Oh cheer up.” Justin shifted to look at the windows, which were fogged up from the weather. It was so humid outside you could feel the thickness of moisture in the air. Justin swiped the tip of his finger across the window. “Look! We can draw on the windows,” he exclaimed. Sometimes Justin got excited about the simplest things. It was infectious, and Alex couldn’t help but crack a smile. Justin twirled his finger around the edges of the window. “You try.” He grasped Alex’s wrist and pulled him closer to the window.

Alex rolled his eyes but indulged Justin nonetheless, writing ‘hi’ on the window. Justin smiled approvingly. “But it’s backwards!” He pointed out. “You gotta write it so other people could read it.”

He paused for a moment, thinking something over in his mind. He seemed to be so deeply concentrated that Alex couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. He started tracing ‘DE’ with his pointer finger, and Alex furrowed his eyebrows. “What’re you drawing?”

Justin didn’t look up when he said, “You’ll see.”

By the time Justin had finished writing ‘DEEZ NU’ Alex started to catch on. “Are you seriously writing ‘DEEZ NUTS’ on the window?” Justin didn’t respond, but when he finally finished writing, he looked back at Alex with a look of accomplishment and pride on his face. Alex couldn’t help but beam back. His boyfriend was an absolute idiot, but he adored him for it.

“It’s good.” Alex bit his lip, teasing. “But it’s missing something.”

Justin glanced back at the window, eyebrows furrowed and confused. “What?”

Alex leaned over and above where Justin had written ‘DEEZ NUTS’ he began to write ‘SUCK ON.’ The ‘S’ was accidentally backwards. “Ugh, I messed it up,” he complained, biting his lip. Writing backwards was harder than it looks.

Justin wouldn’t stop smiling. “It’s perfect.” He leaned over and kissed Alex’s cheek, making his cheeks turn a tint of pink. “I love it.” He reached down into his pocket and took a picture of their artwork. “‘SUCK ON DEEZ NUTS.’ Truly a masterpiece.”

Alex laughed. “Send that picture to me, Picasso.”

Justin chuckled, nodding. “Personally, I think I’m more of a Vincent Van Gogh.”

“And I think you’re an idiot, Justin Foley,” Alex teased.

“You know you love me.” Alex just laughed and kissed him until the bus hit a pothole, and they were jerked into the seat in front of them. Alex rolled his eyes, but when he saw Justin starting to draw a penis onto the window, he thought that maybe, just maybe, taking the bus wouldn’t be quite so bad.

~~

The next week they still had humid weather and the windows were still foggy, especially in the mornings. Each morning, Justin still wrote ‘DEEZ NUTS’ on the window. One day soon, the bus driver was going to find out who was doing this, and they’d both be in trouble. Alex didn’t care so much about that, but he still couldn’t help but groan on the sixth consecutive day at Justin’s antics, “You're a senior for crying out loud! Stop writing 'DEEZ NUTS' on the window whenever we ride the bus.”

Justin just laughed, poking at Alex’s side. “But it’s a tradition now.”

Alex smiled. “Alright,” he agreed, chuckling. “Move so I can write, ‘SUCK ON.’ I’m starting to get better at writing that backwards.” He wasn’t sure how he’d ever use that skill in life, but he was quickly learning that bus rides weren’t so bad. Not when Justin Foley was by your side to make you laugh. And yeah, their tradition was silly and dumb and immature, but it was theirs. Justin posed by sticking his tongue out underneath the words as Alex snapped a picture of their daily masterpiece. He grinned. “Perfect.” And everything truly was perfect, for this one dumb, immature, youthful moment.

#justlex #justin x alex #13 reasons why #Thirteen Reasons Why #13rw #request #my writing #it means a lot that y'all appreciate and support my writing <3

[hymnsofmyheart]

I need thee every hour

Hey, thank you for taking the time to read this post. I desire for you to know this is simply things I struggle with and how God is helping me through it all. My prayer is that you feel God’s love for you, His presence and encouragement.  I see these post as letters to myself and I’m reminded of  how God is ever present in my life.

“How can I know my own heart, when I spend so little time with it?” -Claire Gibson

The last few weeks have been anxious ones. It is anxiety that I have allowed to come in because sometimes in my own selfishness I break my own heart. I choose to believe the lies of the devil instead of the promises of God.

I’m good at keeping myself busy so I don’t have to think about or deal with certain matters. I find temporary fixes to distract myself.

This fight of anxiousness is not one brought on by another person it is truly the way I think or perceive things. It is a battlefield of my mind, heart, and soul. I have discovered I am not well equipped but, boy God is.

One anxious thought I struggle with is a comparison, the comparison of being successful. Recently, I was talking to my sister, Brettan and I told her that at this point in my life I thought I would have accomplished more. She said God does not look at success or measure it the way the world does (Luke 9:23-25, 1st John 2:15-17, Romans 12:2).

Oh how my heart needed that wisdom and encouragement. I also struggle with the busier I am the more successful I will be, when actually the busier I am the further I push myself away from God. I started writing this last week but became busy canning and wasting time watching, The Crown on netflix. Those things are nice but,  my relationship with God has to be first or nothing will be as it should (Ecc. 2:11)

What voices do I choose to listen to? How do I measure the success of my life?When I listen and compare myself to the world, it doesn’t require very much faith and leads to settling for a mediocre life, not the life God has called me to live. Do I seek wisdom and guidance from the world or God? Do I listen to God’s word or lies from the devil? What will sustain me? What will be worth it? What is temporary? What is eternal? I ask myself, why am I  doing this? For affirmation from the world or does it please my heavenly father? Does it please me or does it please God? I think to much about what the world thinks, instead of what God thinks. I believe this disconnection comes when I’m not communicating with God. When I turn to something else instead of turning to him.  I recently heard Brooke Ligertwood speak and she said, “Don’t follow your dreams, follow Jesus, everyday the mission is the same, follow Jesus, to steward what God has given us with His grace and wisdom. “

Following after God, does lead to your dreams, more than you can fathom. I also have to count the cost of following Jesus. It’s not easy, look at Jesus’s life here on earth. He was never comfortable but, apart from God there is no good thing. He will never lead me astray, I’m good at doing that myself.

Comparison is not the only thing I’m anxious about. There is a list, thoughts are a daily battle, one big one is WHEN. God knows what I’m anxious about, he knows what your anxious about. He is all knowing, he is all powerful, he is in control, and he is near. God knows the desires of our hearts and what were anxious about, he loves us too much to see us carry the burden. God doesn’t want us to lose our joy due to anxiety or fear.  He desires for us to become completely  dependent upon him and when we do our joy for Him becomes a fierce weapon for the kingdom.

He said to all of them, “Those who want to come with me must say no to the things they want, pick up their crosses every day, and follow me. Those who want to save their lives will lose them. But those who lose their lives for me will save them. What good does it do for people to win the whole world but lose their lives by destroying them?-  Luke 9: 23-25 (GW)

“Don’t love the world’s ways. Don’t love the world’s goods. Love of the world squeezes out love for the Father. Practically everything that goes on in the world—wanting your own way, wanting everything for yourself, wanting to appear important—has nothing to do with the Father. It just isolates you from him. The world and all its wanting, wanting, wanting is on the way out—but whoever does what God wants is set for eternity.”- 1st John 2:15-17 (MSG)

 Do not be conformed to this world,but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 12:2

But as I looked at everything I had worked so hard to accomplish, it was all so meaningless--like chasing the wind. There was nothing really worthwhile anywhere. Ecc 2:11 (NLT)

Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, PRAY. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.- Philippians 4: 6-7

“The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation.” -C.S. Lewis

Christine Caine, says, “We don’t need to be discovered by God, he created us so he knows where we are. We need to be developed by him into the likeness of Christ. He will take you into the darkroom to be developed so that the spotlight of man won’t destroy you. He is more concerned that the light inside of you is brighter than the light that’s shining on you. When you live for the praise of man, you can be destroyed by the opinion of man. God is looking for people that will be faithful in seasons of development.”

Max Lucado wrote a book, “Anxious for Nothing,”  and there is a devotional on the bible app which has been helpful. Lucado talks about the power of prayer. He says,” you find a promise that fits your problem and build your prayer around it...fewer-anxious thoughts more prayer filled thoughts.”

In 1st Thessalonians God speaks about praying continuously,  I’ve known that verse but, never followed through with it until recently. There is power in the name of Jesus, he desires for us to call upon him, no matter what we are facing. When a thought comes to mind if I’m cooking, cleaning, driving, I pray right then, no hesitation. I have already prolonged too many conversations with my savior, thinking to myself I got this, shoot I don’t. Prayer is for us and God uses it to transform our hearts and minds.  “Whatever you ask in my name, this I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son.”- John 14:13 God calls us to act upon what we hear in His word and when we do there is transformation (James 1:22)

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing,  give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. -1st Thessalonians 5:16-18

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. -James 1:22

 Dr. Caroline Leaf writes,” Develop an ongoing conversation with God; a constant internal dialogue with the Holy Spirit; a literal disciplined lifestyle of praying continuously. Did you know that God designed our brains to actually do this?  We are designed to direct our rest; to switch off to the external and switch on to the internal. Our brain works more efficiently with our intellectual functioning moving onto a higher level with more wisdom and peace, when we direct our rest and set up an internal dialogue with God.”

I titled this post, “I need thee every hour,” after the hymn written by Annie Hawks. It has been my prayer and the realization of the importance of talking to God. After I titled this post, I researched the story behind why Annie wrote it and it confirmed so much goodness and truth!

We have a personal account of the genesis of "I Need Thee Every Hour": Hawks writes, "One day as a young wife and mother of 37 years of age, I was busy with my regular household tasks during a bright June morning [in 1872]. Suddenly, I became so filled with the sense of nearness to the Master that, wondering how one could live without Him, either in joy or pain, these words were ushered into my mind, the thought at once taking full possession of me -- 'I Need Thee Every Hour. . . .'"

 This anxiousness is part of my journey and everyone’s looks different..Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes, “Every man is called separately, and must follow alone.” God didn’t create us to be alone (Genesis 2:18) but, one cannot rely on someone else is relationship with God to fulfill his own.

When C.S. Lewis wrote about the topic of prayer he said, “ Relying on God has to begin all over again every day as if nothing had yet been done.”  Sometimes when I feel discouraged and unsuccessful, God allows me to reflect on how far he has brought me. He gives me my second wind and says let’s go, follow me.

He's solid rock under my feet, breathing room for my soul, An impregnable castle: I'm set for life. - Psalm 62:6 (MSG)

Resources used for writing this post:

Hannah Breacher’s Study-First Be a Follower

https://gallery.mailchimp.com/87ea529be1b2d6065d52fc357/files/b4703846-51b0-44fa-b40d-d058d0a694a0/FirstBeaFollower_March2018.pdf

Brooke Ligertwood

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dSGQ_01Ff6c

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=34ZC1ci1T3Q

Max Lucado’s Anxious for Nothing

https://www.amazon.com/Anxious-Nothing-Finding-Chaotic-World-ebook/dp/B01N3NGA0I

Dr. Caroline Leaf’s blog

https://drleaf.com/blog/are-you-too-busy-to-talk-to-god/

Chad Veach Sermons

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qxjhTgYNqK0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Um3BBgIEsnw

Joyce Meyer’s Books

https://www.amazon.com/Be-Anxious-Nothing-Casting-Resting-ebook/dp/B001JK9BEG

https://www.amazon.com/Battlefield-Mind-Winning-Battle-Your/dp/0446691097

Story behind the hymn, “I need thee every hour”

https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-i-need-thee-every-hour